


The End Of All Things

by drewvansexy



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/M, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:38:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5735287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drewvansexy/pseuds/drewvansexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't know why or how, but for whatever reason the world led me back to you. I've been chasing this empty feeling for years and I think all this time it's been pulling me to you. Like a moth to a flame you burn me in ways I cannot resist. After all this time, it's you. It has always been you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Ezra?" She walks faster down the sidewalk. "Ezra? Is that you?" She calls out again.

Ezra turns around, a smile slowly taking over his face as she approaches.

"Aria! I didn't know you were back?"

He goes in for a hug and she eagerly accepts, trying not to spill the coffees taking up both her hands.

"About a month now. We came back right after graduation," Aria explains. "I think we're gonna stay at my house for a little bit while we get all sorted out with future living arrangements and shit. Dad's never home because of work anyway. The girls are all coming back this summer too so it'll be nice to finally all be in one place."

"Dylan, right?"

"Yeah," she says, holding up the coffee with his name written across it. "I was supposed to meet him at the Brew but he couldn't make it. So if you want a coffee...?"

Ezra smiles and takes the cup without hesitation.

"Alright, so what the fuck are you doing back here?" Aria asks as she begins walking towards Ezra's apartment building. "How are things with Leila?"

Ezra laughs awkwardly and shrugs, following her.

"Shit..." Aria sighs. "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's fine. It was mutual. She's not really a city person and New York just wasn't a good fit. I got back a few days ago for Hardy's wedding next weekend."

"Hardy's getting married? Megan?"

Ezra nods his head. "That's the one. Bless her heart. Dylan popped the big question yet?"

Aria laughs. "He'd have to be pretty dumb to try."

"Why's that?"

"You know why."

Ezra shakes his head and chuckles. "Really? You're still against getting married?"

She rolls her eyes. "You can have a committed relationship without marriage."

"True, but with marriage comes supporting someone no matter what, and loving them in spite of their flaws."

"Yeah well," Aria mutters under her breath, "most of the men in my life have turned out to have some pretty big fuckin' flaws."

Ezra clears his throat awkwardly.

"Besides, the idea of marriage makes me feel trapped," Aria continues. "Why do I need a contract to make sure I stay with the one I love?"

"Fair enough," Ezra replies.

Aria leads the way into Ezra's apartment building all the way to door 3B. She stops in front of the door to wait for Ezra to open it. He chuckles and Aria folds her arms over her chest.

"Just open the damn door, Ezra."

"Want anything to eat?" Ezra asks as he closes the door.

"Shit..." Aria mutters as she looks around. "I mean, I knew that it would look different but..."

"Shit," Ezra says with a smirk.

"Yeah... shit." Aria smiles and sits on the couch. Other than that and the bed the entire apartment looks redone, or maybe undone would be the right word.

"I moved most of it to my place in New York."

"So what, you've just been keeping this place for whenever someone you know gets married?"

Ezra shrugs. "Why not, right?"

Aria raises her brow and takes a sip of her coffee. "Whatever you say, Mr. Fitz."

Ezra rolls his eyes and joins Aria on the couch. "Did you ever think this is where we'd end up? Back in Rosewood?"

Aria laughs, taking in all of the barren shelves and walls. "There was a time when I thought my entire life was going to be here."

"And now?"

"I'm not sure. Dylan found a job close to Philly, I'm looking at a few around there. By fall we should be all set to move up there."

Ezra chuckles softly. "You sound pretty sure to me."

Aria shrugs. "People always sound sure when they love someone. That doesn't make the future any less predictable."

"When did you become so cynical? What happened to the hopeless romantic?"

Aria smiles softly. "She grew up. She learned."

Ezra leans forward and takes the bottle of scotch sitting next to the couch. "Well I'd say we can have a drink to that."

"It's eleven in the morning."

"You can start using that excuse when you start actually caring."

Ezra flashes her a wicked smile as he takes a pull from the bottle. Still furrowing her brow, Aria extends her hand towards the bottle. They continue passing the bottle back and forth until eventually Aria kills it.

"What are we doing, Ezra?"

"I don't know. Hanging out?"

Aria laughs lightly. "Alright... I can do hanging out."

"You're the one who practically led me to my apartment."

Aria frowns at him.

"Come on, when's the last time we spent more than fifteen minutes together. I think we owe ourselves a day, don't you?"

Aria bites her lip before glancing back towards the kitchen.

"Only if you have more to drink."

"Deal."

He gets up and takes a bottle of wine from the fridge. "How's this?" he asks, holding it up for Aria.

"Perfect."

Ezra walks back over to the couch and begins pouring them each a glass. He hands Aria hers and swirls his in his hand.

Aria holds up her glass. "To us, for somehow getting our shit together."

Ezra smiles and touches his glass to hers. "To us."

"So, how's the book thing going?" Aria asks, raising her wine to her lips.

"Great, actually," Ezra says, smiling. "Yeah we should be ready to publish soon."

"That's amazing," Aria replies. "I'm so happy for you, Ezra."

"Aren't you looking into publishing?"

"Yeah, there are a few openings at some publishing groups in Philly for me."

"Damn. We really do have our shit together," he says, chuckling quietly to himself.

"Yeah, fuck, what happened? The young, tortured writer and rebellious, quirky artist are actually making something of themselves. Who would've guessed."

"Aria," Ezra says, laughing softly again. "I don't think anyone ever questioned the amazing things you would do."

She smiles sweetly before rolling her eyes and taking a large gulp of wine. "Fuck off, you big softie."

"I can tell already that the years have only made you kinder," Ezra mutters with a smirk across his face.

Aria looks down at her glass and lets out a small laugh. "What had I ever done in my life to deserve you?"

She lifts her head up and meets his eyes. He's still smiling—that same smile she hasn't seen in forever yet knows so well. Somehow between getting the wine and pouring glass after glass for both of them Ezra has found himself directly next to her, her legs draped over his lap. Aria's breathing is nervous and heavy, and Ezra can smell the wine in her breath as it drifts towards him.

"I should..." Aria breathes out.

"Yeah," Ezra whispers.

Ezra glances down at her wine-stained lips and before he knows it they're brushing his. He lets out a small gasp into her mouth before pressing closer to her, still holding the empty glass in his hand. Aria tosses hers onto the opposite end of the couch and rearranges herself so that she's straddling him.

Ezra breaks away from her mouth. "It'll get wine on the couch."

"Fuck the couch," Aria says, breathless.

Ezra grins and lets go of his own glass, wrapping one hand around her waist and the other in her hair. Aria leans forward and reclaims his mouth, running her hands through his dark curls. Ezra kisses her neck, following it down to her collarbone. Aria inhales deeply, opening her eyes for a moment and realizing what she's doing. Ezra begins tracing back to her neck and Aria puts both of her hands on his chest, pulling back.

"Ezra—fuck—Ezra, stop," she says weakly.

He leans back and looks at her. Aria's running her hand through her hair and biting her lip.

"Fuck, I can't do this, I—" she gets off of him and pulls at her shirt. "Oh my god—"

Ezra stands up as well, causing her to take a step back. "Aria, I'm sorry..."

"No, no," she says quickly, "It was my fault, I, uh..." She looks around nervously. "I need to go... Yeah, I need to leave. Um, thanks, for hanging out."

Aria turns to leave and Ezra quickly follows and lightly touches her arm. "No, please... I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine, Ezra. I just need to not be here right now."

She brushes off his arm and begins walking away again.

"You're drunk," Ezra calls after her.

She opens the door and looks back at him. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Ezra jumps slightly as the door closes and runs a hand through his hair. He lets out a deep, heavy sigh.

"Shit."


	2. Chapter 2

Aria leans against the wall of the apartment building once she's outside, feeling effects of the alcohol quickly catching up to her.

"Fuck," she mumbles to herself as she starts walking towards her house, focusing on every step.

She begins laughing when she realizes it's barely past noon—praying Dylan is anywhere other than home. If she sees him like this she knows he'll make a big deal out of it. Then again, knowing what she just did, maybe he should.

 _It didn't mean anything,_ she tries telling herself, but she knows better. Even if it hadn't been Ezra, she's seen enough to realize that it _always_ means something, even if she doesn't want it to.

Her thoughts are cut short when she finally arrives at her door. She braces herself before going in, and she can't help the irritated sigh that escapes when she hears Dylan call her name from upstairs the second she opens the door.

"Yeah, it's me," she calls back.

Aria slowly finds her way to the kitchen and gets herself a glass of water. She chugs it down, attempting to sober up before seeing Dylan.

"Aria?" Dylan calls out, this time from downstairs.

"In here," she replies as she refills her glass.

"Sorry about missing coffee this morning," he says as he walks up behind her.

He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her shoulder tenderly, while Aria takes another sip of water and tries not to think of all of the wine and scotch sitting around in her stomach.

"Are you okay?"

Aria nods her head, a little bit too enthusiastically. "Fine."

He raises his eyebrow and spins her so that she's facing him. The action is almost enough to make her puke but she takes another gulp of water to distract herself.

"You're drunk," he says simply, though his playful nature is gone.

Aria laughs nervously, coughing lightly from water stuck in her throat. "No," she says weakly, causing her to laugh more.

"You reek of booze. Aria, it's not even one."

She rolls her eyes and sets her glass on the counter as she starts walking out of the kitchen.

"Don't just walk away from me."

Aria lets out an annoyed sigh and turns around.

"What? Are you gonna lecture me? If I wanted someone's permission I'd call my dad."

Dylan scoffs. "So I'm not allowed to be worried about you?"

"Worried about what? I'm a grown woman, I can take care of myself."

"That's not what I'm—"

"Really? Then what are you saying, Dylan?"

He slumps his shoulders and looks at her. Her hair is a mess and her breath stinks of liquor but it's still her. It's still the same Aria he fell in love with their sophomore year. If he's being honest with himself he just wants to know why she wasn't drinking and laughing with him—and then he remembers— _o_ _h right, I cancelled._ He knows it probably isn't fair but regardless he can't help but feel like he's not enough for her—like she'll get bored.

"Look, Aria... I just—I want this to work."

"You think I don't?" she snaps back.

"No, Aria, I—" Dylan takes a deep breath. "I don't want to lose you, okay?"

Aria's expression softens, along with her voice. "Lose me? Dylan... Why would you even say that?"

"It happens all the time. I don't want to be just another college couple that fades away once we get to the real world."

"Dylan... I have other friends. I mean, of course I don't want to lose you, but you can't make me choose."

"I'm not asking you to! I—" He takes another deep breath. "I just want us to be... us. No secrets, no lies. Just... us."

Aria swallows the lump forming in her throat and bites her lip, accepting the fact that by now she's sinned enough for her own kids to be sent straight to hell. She knows Dylan deserves more than what she can give, but she's young and selfish—and drunk—and right now the thought of losing him is more than she can bear.

"Nothing's going to change, Dylan. I love you, and we're going to make it. Just us."

Dylan stares into her eyes, looking for some sign that this is all a lie. Aria holds her breath, waiting for him to say something. Finally, a soft smile begins to take over his face and Aria closes the gap between them before he can change his mind, wrapping her arms around his body. Dylan kisses her forehead gently and whispers 'I love you' into her hair, causing Aria to lean back and return the smile, almost taking him with her.

"Fuck... I'm drunk," she admits, placing a hand on her forehead.

Dylan laughs and hands her the glass of water, which she gratefully accepts.

"Who were you with, anyway?"

"Oh, just Ezra," she says once she takes a break from chugging. "I saw him on my way back from the Brew."

"Wait like, Ezra Fitz? Mr. Fitz? _Professor_ Fitz?"

Aria giggles. "The one and only."

She can feel his body go tense for a moment. If she wasn't drunk maybe she would've read into it, but she _was_ drunk, and whatever temporary discomfort he had leaves without a second thought. Aria sets the empty glass on the counter before making her way upstairs, Dylan following close behind.

"I didn't know you two still talked," he says, trying to seem casual.

She glances back at him. "Oh, yeah. Not that often. Other than today I haven't talked to him in months."

Dylan nods as he follows her to her bedroom, now thinking about how great it will feel when they move in together and he gets to call it _their_ bedroom. He knows that kind of thinking can be dangerous but he can't help it. When he looks at her all he can see is the life they could have—the life they _will_ have.

"Have you given anymore thought to the job offers in Philly?"

"Haven't really gotten the chance," Aria says, shrugging.

"You know, once we get that figured out we're pretty much set. If we wanted we could move into a place in Philly within a week."

"I know... I know," she says as she sits on her bed. Dylan quickly does the same. "I just need to be sure. This is the start of my career, I want it to be right."

He takes her hand in his and brushes his lips against the back of her palm. "I know, I don't mean to rush you. I'm happy wherever we are. I guess I'm just excited to start this new chapter of our lives together."

Aria chuckles and leans forward to give him a kiss. "You're cute when you're excited," she whispers into his mouth.

"You're always cute."

Aria isn't sure if it's the alcohol, or if she's just happy, but she can't help the grin covering her face. And just like that, as if some higher power got off on destroying her happiness, she remembers Ezra. She remembers what she was doing an hour ago and feels her smile slowly fade away.

Dylan immediately senses the change in her expression. "Aria? What's wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing... Just a little nauseous, that's all."

Ignoring the suspicious look on Dylan's face, Aria gets up and rushes to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

"Aria?"

She doesn't respond and splashes cold water over her face in an attempt to calm down.

"Aria?" Dylan says louder.

She leans against the counter, staring at her reflection in the mirror, wishing she could erase the last four hours—wishing she had left the Brew just fifteen minutes earlier and avoided this whole fucked up situation.

"Aria, what the _fuck_ is going on?!"

She takes a deep breath before responding, collecting her thoughts. "I'm fine, sorry. I just thought I was gonna be sick for a second."

"See, this is why we don't drink at noon."

She knows he's trying to be funny, but she turns, almost able to see his smug expression through the door and it makes her want to break something.

"I'll be out in a minute, Dylan."

She hears him hesitate before eventually walking out of her room and feels her entire body relax. She glances back towards the mirror, shaking her head in disappointment.

_What the fuck are you doing, Aria?_

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Ezra wakes up to the sound of someone violently banging on his door. He blinks to reorient himself, groaning as he sees the half full bottle of scotch in his hand and feels the pounding headache sneaking up on him. He checks his phone and sighs out of frustration when he sees that it's barely three in the morning.

"Fuck," he mumbles. "I'm coming!" he yells, letting out a sigh of relief when the banging stops.

He puts the bottle down on the floor, cursing to himself again as he realizes he spilled some on his shirt. He tugs the shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor before opening the door.

"What—" Ezra starts, then he catches sight of her short, wavy brown hair. "Aria...?"

She looks up at him, biting her lip to stop it from quivering. "I can't do this," she says with a shaky voice.

He furrows his brow as she takes a step closer. "Aria..."

She's so close he can feel her breath. All he wants to do is reach out, wrap his arms around her waist, and bury his face in the curve of her neck, trying to remember what it felt like when she called his touch "home". He knows it's because he's still a bit drunk, but she keeps inching closer and closer, and he doesn't want her to stop.

Aria rises on her toes so that her mouth is barely brushing against his. "I can't..." she says again, softer, before pressing her lips to his.

Ezra closes his eyes—opening them again shortly to make sure that he isn't imagining this—and feels himself give in. He's been waiting for this moment for far too long to resist her now. He knows earlier was a mistake, and he knows this probably is too, but he also knows that he hasn't felt his headache since he opened the door.

"I need you," she whispers, sending shivers down his spine. "I can't pretend that I don't think of you, always."

Ezra leans down to kiss her neck, following a path to her collarbone. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day we met," he breathes out against her skin.

Aria lets out a breathy laugh and pulls his face back up to hers, giving her some time to re-memorize the blue color of his eyes that she'd somehow managed to forget. Ezra realizes that he's been holding his breath, but even then he can't seem to relax. The way she's staring now reminds him of the way she used to look at him all those years ago, and it's making every muscle in his body freeze—as if moving would make her look away and he'd never get to know what it felt like to be loved by Aria Montgomery again. Finally, after what feels to Ezra like eternity, she glances down, reclaiming his mouth with her own. She pushes him towards the bed, smiling against his lips in a way that makes him believe that whatever they're doing has to be right. As the back of his head hits the pillow and their fingers interlock, he knows out of all the things in his life he's only ever been sure of one—her.

**. . .**

"I'm a horrible person," Aria says before taking a long swig of scotch.

"Correction," Ezra states. " _We're_ horrible people."

"Thanks," she says dryly, glaring at him as she raises the bottle to her lips.

"What? You don't need it sugarcoated."

Aria drops her eyes and smiles sadly. "I guess I was hoping this isn't as bad as I think it is. But it's bad, Ezra. This is really bad."

"Aria, if you want we can forget this. You can go back to Dylan and just forget I was ever back in Rosewood," he offers, despite every cell in his body wanting nothing more than to stay with her forever. "Even if you tell Dylan what happened, you'd make it through this... We always did."

She shakes her head, "It's different. It's always different with you."

"That doesn't mean you can't—"

"You don't get it!" she snaps. "I can't forget, okay? This is _my_ fault. _I'm_ the one in a relationship. _I'm_ the one who showed up at your door in the middle of the night. I can't ignore that being with you feels like all I've ever wanted," she finishes, her eyes glassy.

Ezra blinks a few times, trying to figure out if she's really saying what he thinks she is. As much as he wants to blame the scotch, he's always been selfish when it comes to Aria. If she can't stay away from him then there's no chance in hell that he'd be able to stay away from her.

"Then we say fuck it."

Aria sniffles and looks at him, dazed. "What?"

"Fuck it," Ezra repeats, shrugging. He grabs the bottle from Aria and takes a pull. "You've already cheated. You might as well be happy now." He sets the bottle on the nightstand and reaches out to brush her hair behind her ear. "We could be happy, Aria," he says softly—hopefully. "We could try."

"Ezra—" she begins, leaning into his touch.

"I know it's crazy, I just... This is real, Aria. We can keep denying it but we both know it's true. I can't lose you again, and if that means having to share you..."

"I have to go," Aria whispers.

Ezra can feel his heart beating faster. Was it something he said? Did she realize this was a mistake? _Is she ever coming back?_

"Aria, don't..." he pleads.

She crawls over him and sits on the edge of the bed, her bare back facing him. She turns her head over her shoulder, giving him a soft smile.

"I have to go home, Ezra," she clarifies.

He watches as Aria gets up and puts on her clothes. When she finishes she takes one last pull from the bottle before placing it back on the table. He grabs her hand lightly as she starts to walk away.

"Please... I need to know I'll see you again."

He pulls her to the side of the bed so she's standing in front of him. He sighs and leans his forehead against her stomach.

"I didn't think it was possible after all this time but being with you again, hearing your voice, it all comes rushing back... I—I love you, Aria. I'm still hopelessly in love with you."

He lifts his head up to meet her eyes. She blinks and fresh tears run down her cheeks, curving down the slope of her jaw and falling onto the floor. She hates how weak Ezra makes her.

"I wish I wasn't," she whispers back, cradling his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Ezra watches silently as she turns and leaves his apartment, suddenly wondering once more if the entire thing had been a twisted dream.

**. . .**

Aria carefully closes the front door before silently walking up the stairs. She enters her room, smiling as she sees Dylan asleep, snoring softly. She climbs into bed, trying her best to be quiet so she won't wake him, holding her breath when she hears Dylan mumble something and turn over.

"Aria?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Where'd you go?" he asks, half-asleep. He has a goofy, tired smile on his face at the sight of her and that, combined with what she's done, is enough to make her feel sick.

"Water," she says, a little too quickly—as if she had been planning it.

Aria can tell he doesn't know whether or not to believe her. The scent of scotch is too strong now to be from her encounter after the brew, but Dylan is too tired to think about it. He's always trusted her, which is one of the reasons she fell for him, and it's why she knows she doesn't deserve him. Aria didn't grow up on trust; she grew up on lies, secrets, and chaos. They were raised as two very different people, and maybe that's why Aria was so drawn to him—someone so drama-free and honest. He was everything she had ever hoped to be. She thought that maybe someone like him could help her be better—help her heal—but somewhere along the way she ended up dragging him into her mess and by that point it was too late. It's always too late. They had already fallen for each other by the time Aria realized she could never be who Dylan wanted her to be, but the love they share is strong enough to get past that. At least it used to be. She used to believe that no one would ever be able to get between her and Dylan, but then again, she used to believe in a lot of things. She used to believe that she would never see Ezra Fitz again.

Dylan falls asleep again quickly, leaving Aria alone with her thoughts. She knows she can't keep this up. At some point she's going to have to make a choice, one that will inevitably hurt someone she loves. The question is who. Or maybe the bigger question is if she'd be able to live with herself if she chose Dylan. Could she really spend the rest of her life knowing that she had cheated on him? _Actually_ cheated on him. Aria knows that the alternative isn't really any better—cheating and then leaving him for someone else. Regardless, Aria forces herself to come to terms with the harsh reality of her situation. As much as she's tried to rationalize it—that _love_ is always messy, that someone always gets hurt—she can't pretend that she won't be the one to deliver the final twist of the knife.

She knows there are other ways. She could end things with Dylan now and avoid more lies. She could stop cheating. She knows there are ways to make this right—at least, as right as they can be—but she can't. Maybe she's just scared, or maybe she's just selfish, but Aria can't let Ezra or Dylan go until she knows for sure. Too many people in her life have betrayed her. She knows it isn't fair, but she also knows that in the list of words used to describe her life, "fair" has never been one of them. Maybe it was never meant to be. Maybe people like her aren't supposed to fall in love.


	4. Chapter 4

"What is this for again?" Dylan asks as he zips the back of Aria's dress.

"Old friend's wedding," Aria replies, quickly exchanging the studs in her ears for hoops.

"Ezra's friend, right?"

Aria nods and looks herself over in the mirror.

"He's coming to pick me up in a few minutes."

"You look amazing, by the way," Dylan says with a shy smile.

Aria glances at him, returning the smile, then turns to face him.

"Hardy said you could come," she reminds him.

He shakes his head and reaches out to place a stray hair behind her ear.

"I've never even met the guy, plus I have some work I need to—"

The doorbell interrupts him before he can finish. Aria gives Dylan another sweet smile before kissing his cheek softly.

"You're sure?"

He laughs lightly and kisses her forehead. "I'm sure. Tell the happy couple congrats for me."

Aria's face falls slightly. "I love you, Dylan. You know that right?"

His brow lowers in confusion. "Of course I know that, Aria. And you know I love you, too."

She lets out a breathy laugh. "I just need you to know. I need you to know that no matter what the future brings you can never doubt that I love you."

"I know how you feel about me."

Aria nods and clears her throat. "Good..."

The doorbell rings again and Dylan takes a step back from her.

"Okay, you don't want to be late."

"Right, I'll see you when I get back," she says quickly.

Despite everything she's said, as Dylan watches Aria leave he can't help but feel that in the time they've spent back in Rosewood, he's been watching her slowly fall through his fingers. And maybe that's what she was trying to tell him—even as she slips farther and farther away she doesn't love him any less.

**. . .**

Ezra pulls into the vacant Hollis parking lot and Aria looks at him curiously.

"He's getting married at a college?" It's the first thing she's said since Ezra picked her up.

"The park right next to Hollis," he answers, trying to ignore the building tension between them.

Aria doesn't say anything else as they walk across the campus. Ezra tries starting a conversation but quickly figures out his attempts are hopeless when she replies in nothing but wordless gestures. They can just start to make out the wedding arch across the park when Ezra stops. Aria looks back at him with questioning eyes and he sighs deeply.

"Aria, you didn't have to come to this."

"What makes you think I didn't want to come?"

Ezra raises his eyebrows and scoffs quietly. "Are you fucking serious, Aria?"

She rolls her eyes. "What? I'm fine."

His expression softens and he closes the gap between them while Aria's eyes remain locked on the ground.

"Hey..." he says softly, lifting her chin lightly with his finger. "What's wrong."

She lifts her head but still manages to avoid looking directly at him.

"We're gonna be late."

"Aria..."

She shrugs and meets his gaze.

"What are we doing, Ezra?" she whispers. "What am _I_ doing?"

" _We_ are going to a wedding," he replies evenly. "We're going to drink, support my old college friend, and then you're going to go home. You're going to go back to the person you love, who loves you just the same, and in the morning the sun will rise and the world will keep turning."

She laughs in disbelief. "How can you make it sound so simple?"

Ezra shrugs. "Maybe it is."

Aria shakes her head, tears now threatening to fall from her glassy eyes. "It never is."

"Why can't it be? Just this once?" Ezra gently wipes a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "There's no one looking over your shoulder anymore, Aria. There's no one watching and waiting for you to make a mistake—"

"Is that what this is?"

"No, of course not—"

"Then tell me there's a way to fix this. Tell me there's a way for me to look in the mirror when this is all over and not hate the person staring back."

"Aria—"

"I can't go back from this. I can't change what I've done; and I can't pretend like this isn't who I am." She laughs dryly. "I'm the fucking cheater and all I can talk about is how much it's tearing _me_ apart."

Ezra doesn't know what to say. There isn't much he can say. As much as he hates to admit it, she's not wrong. He hadn't been the first person cheated on by Aria Montgomery, and he knows he certainly isn't the last. All he can do is hopelessly stare at the painfully confused girl in front of him and hope that whatever decision she reaches somehow includes him.

"Aria... What does this mean?" he asks hesitantly.

She wipes her eyes with the side of her hand and laughs. Genuinely laughs. "Nothing. It means absolutely nothing."

"Aria?" he says again, cautious of her sudden change in tone.

"Don't you get it? It all means nothing. We can talk about it all we want but nothing changes. This doesn't stop," she explains, gesturing at the space between them. "We're going to go to the wedding and forget this ever happened. You're going to be the same charming Ezra you always are and the world around us will disappear. And when the night ends I'll go home and the shame will rush in. I'll lay awake listening to Dylan's heavy, even breaths, hating myself for betraying someone I love, and the next day it will start all over again."

"So stop thinking."

"God, stop making it sound so easy!" Aria shouts frustratedly, tangling her hands in the back of her hair.

"And what about Jake? How was that any easier?"

"I get it! I'm a piece of shit, okay?!"

"That's not—"

"Two weeks ago I was planning my future with a man who I can't even look in the eye anymore."

"And what if you left right now?" Ezra counters. "What if we never saw each other again? Would you be able to look him in the eye then?"

Aria doesn't respond. Instead, she drops her gaze again and bites her lip.

"This may be fucked up, but you said it yourself, we can't go back. After everything we've been through you deserve a chance at being happy. For once in your life let yourself be happy without trying to find all the ways it can be destroyed. You don't have to think like that anymore."

"I hate how reasonable you sound," Aria mumbles after a long silence, her eyes never leaving the ground.

"Is that a yes?"

"We're going to be late," she says dismissively as she heads towards the opposite end of the park.

Ezra isn't sure exactly what just happened, but he does know that Aria chose to stay, and that's good enough for him.

**. . .**

"Aria Montgomery. Damn."

Aria turns at the sound of her name, smiling brightly when she sees a newly married Hardy walking towards her. They haven't talked since their encounter at Ezra's short story reading all those years ago, but for some reason Aria feels as if she's reuniting with an old friend.

"Who would've thought," she says, going in for a hug. "Congratulations, Hardy. Dylan sends his as well, he's sorry he couldn't make it."

"How are things going with him?"

"Good," she replies quickly.

Aria isn't sure if she's imagining the crooked smirk on Hardy's face. He waits to see if she'll continue, but when she doesn't he clears his throat.

"Well, that's... good."

"How does it feel to be married?" Aria asks, changing the subject.

A huge smile spreads across Hardy's face as she says the word "married". It's almost answer enough.

"I can't tell you how happy I am."

She can't help but smile too and it takes Aria a moment for her to believe that this is the same Hardy she met back when she was in high school. Although she'd only met him once, the man she's listening to speak now is so drastically different from the man who she once heard paid Ezra in frozen burritos to write his papers. Maybe it isn't just Hardy. Maybe while everyone else has been moving on and growing up she's been standing still, stuck living in the same patterns of her past. Maybe she's the only one who hasn't changed for the better.

Thankfully, Ezra returns with two glasses of some sort of mixed drink. He hands one of them to Aria before putting a hand on Hardy's shoulder.

"I see you're enjoying the open bar," Hardy says, his eyebrows raised.

"Just trying to make sure you get your money's worth," Ezra replies. "Congratulations, man."

"I'm really glad you could make it."

"Come on, Hardy. I wouldn't have missed it for the world." He swings his arm out to the side, spilling some of his drink on himself in the process. "Fuck," he mutters, looking at the damage. "I'll be back."

Hardy laughs and shakes his head. "All right I gotta get back to the family, but it was good seeing you again, Aria. Enjoy the reception."

"Yeah, you too," she replies with a smile, then turns her head to see where Ezra wandered off to.

"Hey, Aria?"

She looks back at him.

"Look... I don't know what's going on between you two, but five years ago I warned Ezra that being with you would only get him hurt. Please... Prove me wrong."

Aria stands speechless as Hardy turns and walks away. She blinks a few times, trying to wrap her head around the entire situation.

"What'd he say this time?" Ezra asks as he returns.

She shakes her head and laughs. "Nothing, just to enjoy ourselves."

"Well... I finished mine on the way to clean my sleeve so you better chug that if you wanna keep up," Ezra says, pointing to the glass in her hand.

She scoffs. "It's not my fault you spilled half of yours," she mutters, raising the glass to her lips.

"But it is your fault that we don't already have more drinks in our hands."

She sets her now empty glass on the nearest table. "You _are_ turning me into an alcoholic."

 _Dylan was right,_ almost slips out as well, but whether it's the alcohol or some other reason she can't think of right now, Aria ignores the feeling of guilt creeping up on her.

"So we're still pretending that these drinking habits are new for you?"

"Shut up and get me another drink."

**. . .**

"Fuck..." Ezra mutters as he stumbles over his own foot. The moon is generously bright tonight but even the added light isn't enough to help a less-than-sober Ezra. "I probably shouldn't drive right now."

Aria laughs at him, and being equally as drunk, sloppily grabs his arm. Out of habit she checks behind them to see if anyone is watching.

"Come on," she says, directing him away from the path to the car and pulling him towards another area of the park.

She has a wicked smirk on her face that grows as they get farther and farther away from people. She stops once they reach a somewhat secluded area of the park and falls to the ground, giggling as she pulls Ezra down to sit next to her. He finally takes a moment to look at the breathtaking smile on her face, and there's a wild look in her eyes that makes him feel the greatest high he's ever felt. She meets his gaze and blushes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asks breathlessly.

"It's nice to hear you laugh like that again," Ezra admits.

She scrunches her nose lightly. "Like what?"

He shrugs. "Like you're excited... like you're free."

Aria stares at him for a while, a crease forming at her forehead as she tries to fully understand what he means. After a while she leans back and stares up at the sky, continuing to smile at the stars.

"Free..." she whispers, mostly to herself—or quite possibly the stars. It almost sounds like she's asking a question.

Ezra ignores it, assuming—understandably so—that it was due to their current intoxicated state. He leans back as well, and she finds his hand with her own, interlocking their fingers as they lay together in the grass.

"You know," Ezra begins. "There aren't any stars in the city."

Aria chuckles softly, never taking her eyes away from the sky. "I don't need stars," she says quietly. "I need bright lights, noisy streets..." She laughs again. "Fuck... I need excitement, Ezra."

"Come back to New York with me."

Aria turns her head and meets Ezra's eyes. "Ezra, I—"

"What have we got to lose, Aria?"

She laughs in disbelief. "You can't be serious right now."

"You're telling me you're still planning on moving to Philly with him in a few weeks?"

Aria opens her mouth to speak but finds herself at a loss for words. "I—I don't know..." she manages to stutter.

"Do you really see yourself being happy with him, Aria?"

"Of course he makes me happy, Ezra—"

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just close your fucking eyes, Aria."

She rolls her eyes before slowly closing them and taking deep breath.

"I want you to remember how you felt ten minutes ago."

"This is dumb."

Ezra sighs. "Please?"

"Fine," she mutters, then her voice softens. "Okay... I'm remembering."

Ezra almost begs again but then he watches as the corners of her mouth turn slightly upward.

"What do you see, Aria?"

"I see the skyline," she whispers, a soft smile appearing on her face. "I see adventures..."

She slowly opens her eyes and for the first time it's like she finally understands what Ezra is talking about.

"I see you," she adds softly.

She can't remember the last time she felt the way she has tonight. She had nights like this in college, but the more she thinks about it the more she realizes that most of those nights had never been with Dylan. Maybe she's always known, but she realizes now that the happiness she's felt with Dylan always seemed just the slightest bit forced. Not that he doesn't make her happy—because she truly does love him—but it's as if she wants to be happier with Dylan than she really is.

"Come with me to New York," Ezra repeats.

"You're drunk," Aria argues.

"So are you."

"I don't think that helps your case," she says, giggling.

"Fuck," he whispers, letting out a breathy laugh. "Our lives would be so much easier if I didn't love you."

"I know..." Aria looks back up at the stars with a sad smile. "I'm sorry."


	5. Chapter 5

Aria's eyes slowly open and the first thing she notices is how the sun is a much harsher light to wake up to than the one at home. It takes her a moment to realize where she is.

"Fuck," she mutters under her breath as she sits up and looks for her phone.

Ezra groans beside her and opens his eyes, smiling as he sees her.

"We have to go," Aria says. "Now."

He rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. "Five more minutes..." he mumbles.

She looks back at her phone, hoping that the four missed calls from Dylan would have somehow disappeared. She stands and raises the phone to her ear, trying to shake off as much grass as she can. She looks back at Ezra who's smirking at her.

"Aria, you're a grown woman. I think you can spend one drunken night in a park without your boyfriend freaking out."

Aria glares at him and curses when she hear Dylan's voicemail on the other line. She ends the call and lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Ezra, please," she begs.

He rolls his eyes and stands. "We didn't even do anything last night..."

"Stop acting like a child," Aria snaps and begins walking towards the car.

Ezra follows her and shakes his head. "Stop acting like I'm wrong."

She bites her lip and walks faster, trying Dylan's phone again.

"Fuck!" she yells angrily when she hears his voicemail again.

Ezra catches up to her and gently touches her arm. At first she flinches, then she starts to calm down and slow her pace.

He sighs and takes the edge off his voice. "We'll go to my place until he calls back, okay?"

She nods but doesn't look up from her feet. Ezra doesn't try to say anything else as they walk.

He parks in front of his apartment but neither of them move to get out. Ezra's hands are white from their firm grip on the steering wheel and Aria's eyes haven't wandered from her lap.

"Are you really going back?" Ezra finally says, breaking the silence.

"I have to."

"You don't _have_ to do anything."

"I _want_ to," she clarifies.

Ezra scoffs. "You can't really believe that."

Aria rolls her eyes and reaches for the door. "I'm walking home."

"Wait—" Ezra sighs and reaches his arm out to stop her. "I'm sorry. I don't have the right."

She hesitates, then settles back into her seat. Ezra does the same, letting his body relax.

"Aria..." he says softly.

He looks at her, wanting nothing more than for her to see what he sees, to see the future he knows could be theirs.

"Please," he begs.

Aria slowly lifts her head to meet his gaze.

"If this is really... If this is everything you want out of life," Ezra says, his eyes still locked with hers. "I just want you to be happy, and if anything I know about you is still true... You could be happier, Aria. You could have the whole world if you wanted to—"

He's interrupted by the sound of Aria's phone ringing. At first, she doesn't even notice it. After a few rings she snaps out of it.

"I—" she breathes out, looking down to see that Dylan is calling. Flustered, she accepts the call and looks away from Ezra.

"Dylan?"

"Where are you?" He asks immediately.

She can't tell if he's angry with her or just worried—or both. She opens the door and steps out, shutting the door behind her. Ezra leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, we got a little carried away with the open bar..." Aria explains, nervously chewing her lip. "Ezra was too fucked up to drive so we just slept in the park—"

"You slept in a park?"

She rubs her forehead with her free hand and sighs. "Yeah, it kind of just...happened. I'm sorry, I should've called."

"Where are you?" he repeats, but his tone is just as cryptic as before.

"Ezra just drove me back to his apartment, I'm walking home now. I—I'm really sorry, Dylan."

"It's fine, I'm at work anyway. I'll see you at home."

"Dylan, wait—" she says quickly before he can hang up. "I love you."

"I gotta go."

Aria hears a click and slowly lowers the phone from her ear. Ezra opens the door and tentatively steps out of the car. He leans against the side of the car and tries to figure out the expression on her face.

"Everything okay?"

"I have...no idea." Aria says, defeated.

"Are you coming up?"

She hesitates and checks her phone. It's a terrible idea, but Dylan will be working for at least another three hours and the last thing she wants to be is alone right now. Maybe if she only goes in for a moment... She nods and brushes a few stray hairs from her face.

"Only for a little."

Ezra opens the door and Aria immediately throws herself onto the couch. He laughs softly and shakes his head as he removes his coat and tie and tosses them onto the counter. Aria continues staring at the ceiling as he joins her on the couch. He has to lift her legs so he can sit and he places them back over his lap. Aria chuckles quietly to herself.

"What?" he asks.

"My life is falling apart," she replies simply. "Like mountains of sand collapsing through my fingers..."

She extends her arms out towards the ceiling in front of her, looking up through the cracks between her hands. Ezra watches curiously, unable to think of a way to make any of this better.

"Dylan tried to propose to me, you know," she says suddenly, dropping her hands.

Ezra can't help but laugh. "What?"

"Right before graduation," she explains. "I said no, of course. I gave him my speech on marriage and then it was over."

"Did he know before?"

"I told him, but you know how people are. I say 'I never want to get married', they hear 'I'm waiting for the right guy to change me'."

"He's in love," Ezra offers as explanation. "He probably thinks you'll stop drinking, too."

"I never promised anything."

Ezra smiles sadly and shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. He knows if he doesn't change he'll lose you, but he can't change. He loves you though, so he'll keep holding onto the hope that you'll change and one day everything will be perfect."

"Watch yourself," she warns.

"Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong."

"I thought it was going to be over... When I said no I—I thought he was going to end things."

"Did you want him to?"

Aria's mouth begins to taste like metal and she realizes how hard she's been chewing her lip. Without warning, she gets up quickly and starts walking towards the door.

"I knew this was a bad idea," she mutters under her breath.

Ezra rolls his eyes and gets up to follow her.

"What did I say this time?" he asks, exhausted.

Aria turns around and looks at him in disbelief.

"Five years," she reminds him. "We haven't seen each other in five years! For fucks sake, Ezra! You have no right to tell me how I feel. You can't show up after all this time and act like you know what's best for me."

"Aria—"

"No," she cuts him off. "You can't do this to me. You can't pretend to know me like you once did."

"No, _you_ can't do this to me," Ezra says angrily, stepping closer to her. "Don't you dare act like these past few weeks have meant nothing to you."

She drops her gaze and wraps her arms around her waist. "I didn't mean for this to happen..." she whispers. "You weren't supposed to happen."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me."

Aria glances up and sees that he's even closer now. Her eyes are glassy and she has to fight to keep tears from falling. She opens her mouth but can't find the strength to speak.

"Stay," he whispers desperately, lightly brushing her cheek with his hand.

She turns her face away from his palm. "You can't ask me to do that," she replies weakly.

"Stay," he repeats.

The corner of her mouth curls up slightly in wonder. She looks back at him and hesitantly raises her hand to brush the hair from his forehead before resting her palm on the side of his face.

"Why do you always feel so inevitable?" she asks softly, staring curiously into his eyes.

She understands now that this is how it will always be. Years can go by but nothing will ever change. Ezra will always be Ezra. Her heart will forever be yearning for what once was.

She rises on her toes and presses her lips to his cheek and then, as always, she's gone—a fleeting moment that comes and goes before Ezra can so much as put it into his memory. Ezra stands motionless for a moment, his hand subconsciously hovering over where hers had been less than a minute earlier. Eventually, he scoffs and walks towards the kitchen to pour himself a generous glass of scotch. He takes a quick pull straight from the bottle before pouring his glass—and another after he's done. He lets out an empty, cold laugh and shakes his head as he raises the glass to his lips.

Tomorrow he'll go back to New York and they'll both forget this ever happened. What else did he expect? She was in high school when they met. He was part of a chapter in her life that would undoubtedly end. It was supposed to end five years ago. They were never supposed to make it. Aria Montgomery's story was never meant to end with Ezra Fitz. Still, he can't help but wonder how something so temporary by design could hurt this much. How could it have all felt so real?

**. . .**

Aria doesn't know how long she's been waiting. She must have been sitting on her bed for hours before she finally hears the front door open.

"Aria?"

"Up here," she replies.

She feels her blood go cold as she listens to Dylan's soft footsteps making their way up the stairs. She can't tell if he's slowing down the closer he gets to her room or if it's just her imagination. Either way she doesn't really mind. Besides, he's not looking forward to this conversation any more than she is. She holds her breath as she hears him approach her room.

"Hey," Dylan says as he leans against the doorframe.

Aria lifts her head and tries to give him a convincing smile. A shiver runs down her spine when she sees that he looks visibly less nervous than she feels. She can't read the expression on his face but he seems calm—or maybe just tired. They both are. This has been long overdue.

"Can we not do this small talk thing?" Aria insists.

Dylan chuckles dryly and it sends another shiver down her spine. "I didn't know saying hey was a "thing"."

Aria exhales tiredly. "Dylan, please."

He sighs and walks over to her bed. She moves slightly to the side to make room for him and he takes a seat next to her.

"I'm sorry," Aria manages to whisper once she swallows the lump in her throat.

"I really don't know what to say," he says softly.

She looks down at her lap and begins playing with the rings on her fingers.

"I just need you to know that I really am sorry—"

"But you don't get it, do you?" Dylan asks. Aria doesn't answer and he sighs in frustration. "I _know_ you're sorry, Aria. You can be sorry every time but that doesn't change the fact that you're going to do whatever you want to do. It doesn't matter how I feel or what I think—I guess as long as you're sorry, right?"

Aria lets out a shaky breath. "Dylan, I—"

He shakes his head. "I didn't—" He pauses for a moment and sighs. "I didn't mean that, I just... I not trying to stop you from being yourself. I don't want you to have to be someone you're not and I know that it would be dumb of me to even think you would change for anyone—"

Aria giggles softly and Dylan looks at her with a hint of a smile.

"Aria, it can't be like this..." he continues. "We can't keep doing this to each other."

Her face falls and she nods slowly.

"I know..." she whispers.

"What do you want?"

"I love you, Dylan," she says with all the strength she has left. "Please, after all this time you have to believe me."

He lowers his head. "I _do_ believe you... _that's_ the problem. I can't do this anymore, Aria. I love you, more than I've ever thought was possible, and I want to be with you, but I'm exhausted. You can spend all night drunk in a park with your first love, then tell me you love me the next morning and have everything be okay."

Aria knows he's right. He deserves more than that. "I'm sorry, I—I don't know what else to say. I should've called last night when I knew we weren't going to make it home—"

"I could've picked you up," Dylan reminds her bitterly.

"I didn't want to inconvenience you," she explains.

"No of course, not when you could spend the night cuddled up next to Fitz—"

Aria scoffs. "We didn't even do anything last night!"

Dylan's head tilts slightly to the side before he slowly closes his eyes.

"And what about the other nights?" he asks slowly, afraid of the answer he knows is coming.

"I—"

She tries to find the right words but she can't. There are no right words. She can't keep lying to him. She's done enough. Aria drops her head and finally releases the tears she's been holding back all day.

"Dylan, I'm sorry—" she chokes out.

"Of course you are." He lets out a dry, cold laugh. "I'm a fucking idiot."

He gets off of the bed and takes a few steps towards the door.

Aria follows him and takes a step towards him. "You're not—"

"I trusted you, Aria!" Dylan turns around to face her. His face is more defeated than angry. "You looked me in the eyes and lied to me. Who knows how many times? You didn't even hesitate," he spits out.

"Please," she says, hesitantly taking another step. "I'm sorry—"

"You're sorry? You've spent the last few weeks getting drunk and fucking your high school teacher behind my back and you're... _sorry?"_

"Please, I love—"

"Don't you dare," he warns. "You can't do that to me."

Aria tries to rid the tears from her cheek but they won't stop coming.

"I didn't ask for this!" Aria cries. "I never wanted to hurt you!"

"And what did you ask for?" he shouts angrily. "What did you want when you fucked Ezra Fitz?"

"Please, you have to believe me—"

"Believe _you_?"

"I love you! I fucking love you!" Aria cries desperately. "I was confused, and selfish, and you deserve so much more than what I've given you...but you're my best friend and I want to be in your life. Please," she whispers. Her throat is sore and her vision blurry. "I know I don't deserve it but please, _please_ don't give up on us yet. I love you, Dylan. I don't know how else to prove it to you."

"Marry me."

Aria's breath catches in her throat and she steps back in shock.

"I—I can't," she stutters nervously.

"Why?"

"You know why."

Dylan steps forward and takes Aria's hands in his. She turns her head to the side and stares at a spot on the floor to avoid his eyes.

"If you truly love me—"

Her head snaps forward and she glares at him. "It's not about that!"

"Right, I know, you don't need a piece of paper to prove anything," Dylan mutters dryly, turning his head away.

Aria softly touches his cheek with her palm and guides his eyes back to her own.

"I want to be with you," she whispers. "Why isn't that enough?"

"It can't be, Aria," he replies softly. "Not this time."

She knows that he isn't being unfair. After everything she's done she should be lucky he's still here, but she can't do what he's asking of her.

"Dylan, I can't... I love you, but—"

"But you love him more," he says in sad acceptance, lightly grabbing her hand and lowering it from his face.

Aria looks away this time. She can't tell him that he's wrong, but she learned a long time ago that sometimes the people you love most aren't meant to stay in your life forever. Sometimes we cannot explain the way in which our hearts ache for the impossible.

"I didn't choose Ezra, I chose you."

"No." He shakes his head. "You may love me, but I don't think you're capable of choosing anyone, Aria."

His words carve into her like knives. He's no longer angry and flustered. These words are coming from the heart, and that makes them all the more painful.

"You can tell yourself you don't want to get married because you don't need proof," he continues. "But we both know the truth is you will never be satisfied with loving one person for the rest of your life."

Aria swallows the lump in her throat and lowers her head in acceptance.

"I'm not happy anymore, Dylan," she admits. "I don't know if I ever was." She raises her head and meets his eyes. "I love you, I really do, but you're right; we can't keep doing this to each other. You deserve someone who can love you the way you want to be loved—the way you _deserve_ to be loved—unconditionally and without fear."

Aria knows she doesn't really have the right to be crying now, but she can't help the way she feels—even if it tends to hurt everyone around her. Maybe Dylan was right. Maybe she's incapable of giving all of her love to one person...

When Aria was seven she found an injured bird outside her house, and when she brought it inside to nurse it back to health Ella joked that Aria had been born with an excess amount of love in her heart. She said that Aria could love something more than anyone had ever thought possible and still have enough love left over for the entire world.

They spend one last night together—for old time's sake—and as Aria slips away she wonders if maybe people like her aren't meant to fall in love; maybe they're just meant to wander here and there, collecting pieces of the hearts they break along the way.


	6. Chapter 6

Dylan lets out a shaky breath before knocking on the wooden door in front of him. He doesn't know why he came here—well, he does, but he isn't sure why he's even bothering to try, or why he even _wants_ to try. He hears heavy footsteps, followed by Ezra Fitz swinging open the door to his apartment.

"Is she here?" Dylan asks, his voice much stronger than he feels.

"Leave," Ezra says, his jaw hardened.

"Please, I just need to see her."

"Get out."

Dylan doesn't know what to make of Ezra's indifference. He's practically standing emotionless in front of Dylan—his face is sunken and tired, his breath smelling of scotch, and his eyes cold. Dylan ignores Ezra and pushes past him into the apartment, scoffing as Ezra finishes off the bottle in his hand.

"No wonder she became a drunk..." Dylan mumbles.

"Get out!" Ezra yells suddenly, causing Dylan to jump slightly. "She's not fucking here, okay! She's gone and it's all your fault!" Ezra throws the bottle to the side and clenches his fist at his side. He doesn't so much as flinch when it shatters against the kitchen cabinet. Dylan begins to back away from Ezra farther into the apartment.

"Ezra—" Dylan starts cautiously, continuing to step back. He steps on a crumpled paper on the floor of ezra's apartment as he retreats, and he looks down to see the handwriting he knows so well written across it. He pauses and tilts his head curiously before picking it up, forgetting about the disheveled man standing before him.

"Dylan..." Ezra says cautiously, his voice drastically softer than before.

Dylan ignores him and flattens out the note.

"Dylan, I'm sorry..." Ezra whispers but he knows it's useless.

As soon as Dylan finishes reading the first line he slowly moves to sit down on the couch, his shoulders slumped in surrender.

**. . .**

_Ezra,_

_I don't know why or how, but for whatever reason the world led me back to you._ _I've been chasing this empty feeling for years and I think all this time it's been pulling me to you. Like a moth to a flame you burn me in ways I cannot resist._ _After all this time, it's you. It has always been you_ _._

_I've come to realize that you are inevitable, and that scares the shit out of me. Every moment I spend loving you is a moment I spend waiting for everything to fall apart. I've spent the past eight years of my life living in fear._ _You said it yourself, I don't have to be afraid anymore. I_ can't _be afraid anymore._

 _I'm sorry. I can't ask you to forgive me._ _I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself, but please try to understand. You understand why I have to leave, don't you? I have no other choice._

_Years ago I realized how small my world was. I was trapped in Rosewood, even in college. I wasn't meant for this. I can't look you in the eyes and tell you that four months from now I'll wake up happy. I can't promise that. I can't give you what you're looking for._

_I don't know how to make you understand what I've been spending my entire life trying to figure out. I can't be happy with you, Ezra, even though you make me happier than anything I've ever known. Can't you see? I can't be happy knowing that I have so much love left to give—knowing that even loving two people with everything I have isn't enough. I can't take it anymore. My heart is suffocating. I want to breathe. I've wanted for so long just to breathe._

_I'm sorry it's taken me so long to figure out, and I'm sorry for letting it get so messy. I can't do this anymore. I've been running from my demons all this time but I've been going in circles. Everywhere I look I see a life that I never intended to live—the reminders of a life I've tried years to forget—the shell of a girl who never existed. I can't pretend to be that person anymore, Ezra. You were right... This is not what I want._

_I have to become nobody_ — _invisible, untraceable, forgotten. The ghost of a girl in the big city._ _This is my chance to start over. You of all people should know what that's like, don't you? A chance to escape a world you never fit into_ — _a world of resignation and rotten promises. There has to be more than this, Ezra. This can't be all that's left for me._

_I'll miss you, more than you will ever know. It might not make sense now, but I have to do this. I know I could tell you none of it mattered. I could tell you that what we have means nothing to me. I could make it easier for both of us, but consider this my last selfish act—_

_In my heart you are, and will always be, the love of my life._

_Isn't that what makes us the ultimate epic tragedy? To love someone with all you have and still fall prey to life's inescapable hunger for chaos._

_I only ask that you remember_ — _remember me like I was. Years will pass, but there will always be a part of me holding on to the girl you used to know_ , _the girl you loved._

_Believe me when I tell you that I wish it could've ended differently. I wish there was a happy ending for us._

_W_ _ith love_ — _always,_

_Aria._

_Until we meet again..._

**. . .**

Dylan watches the letter fall through his hands and return to the floor. His mouth curves into a sad smile.

"I never had a chance with her, did I?"

Ezra laughs dryly. "Neither of us did."

He hesitates before slowly moving to join Dylan on the couch. He sits on the opposite side and rests his elbows on his knees.

Dylan shakes his head. "I'm pathetic."

"No—"

"Don't even try," Dylan says, cutting Ezra off before he can argue. "She cheats on me with the fucking love of her life and here I am...sitting on his fucking couch just wishing she'd come back."

Ezra sighs and looks over at Dylan. He knows the last thing Dylan wants is pity, especially from him, considering he's the one who helped Aria realize that this wasn't the life she thought she wanted.

"Come on," Ezra says, standing and offering his hand to Dylan. "You look like you could use a drink."

Dylan looks up at his extended hand and furrows his brow. He eventually stands, ignoring Ezra's hand, and walks past him out the door without another word. Ezra nods his head slowly in understanding. Why the hell would Dylan want anything to do with the man responsible for his pain?

"I thought we were getting a drink," Dylan says impatiently, startling Ezra.

Ezra turns to see that Dylan is waiting for him in the hallway. He exhales nervously and grabs his wallet from the coffee table.

"You're buying," Dylan says as Ezra closes the door behind him.

Ezra nods and attempts a smile. He knows he owes Dylan a lot more than a drink.

**. . .**

"I don't—" Dylan pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I don't blame you, Ezra, for what you did."

Ezra raises his fourth shot to his lips and feels the tension leave his shoulders as the liquor burns his throat.

"You should," Ezra replies, setting the glass down.

"I would've done the same," Dylan argues.

"You know, she cheated on me every time...but now, I think I understand," Ezra says. He shrugs. "Maybe she was right. Maybe love like hers is too forceful not to be shared."

As he says it, the more he believes. He could have drowned in her love. He _would_ have, had she given him the chance.

"I asked her to marry me last night," Dylan says.

Ezra scoffs and shakes his head. "Rookie mistake, my friend. That one's on you."

"I just—I thought this time would be different, you know?"

Ezra frowns and motions for the bartender to give them two more.

"Look," Ezra says. "You can't beat yourself up about it."

"If I'd never given her that stupid ultimatum maybe she wouldn't have left..."

Ezra sighs and places one of the shots in front of Dylan.

"To tell you the truth, I don't think it would've mattered. She could have chosen either of us but sooner or later she would've left." Ezra quickly takes the shot in front of him and motions for another. "Just be glad she gave you the rest of your young life to fall in love again," he adds bitterly.

"And is that how you feel?" Dylan asks doubtfully. "Resentful for having wasted your life loving her?"

"It has to be," Ezra says. "It's easier to be angry than wistful—or even worse, in love."

"And is that possible?"

Ezra raises his brow in question.

"To be angry," Dylan clarifies. "To stay angry at...her."

Ezra sighs defeatedly. "No," he admits. "I don't think it is."

Dylan picks up his shot and raises it. Ezra does the same and lightly taps their glasses together. They set the empty glasses back on the bar and Dylan laughs—for the first time it sounds genuine.

"I get it now," Dylan says, his speech slower. "The drinking thing."

Ezra smiles before letting his expression fall. "You know she loves you, right?"

"Yeah, seems she loves a lot of people," Dylan mutters dryly.

Ezra laughs lightly. "Maybe, but I'd be lucky to find someone who could make me feel half as loved as she did."

Dylan looks down at the empty glass before him and laughs softly in disbelief.

"How can one person have this much effect on everyone around them?"

Ezra smiles longingly. "She's magnetic. The moment you get close enough she pulls you in...and then it's over."

"Does it ever get easier?" Dylan asks desperately.

"There are times when I forget that she's gone, you know? And then there are times when I can't forget..." Ezra explains. "But those first moments of delusion—of denial—even for just a second, it's as if she never left."

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget," Dylan admits.

He pulls out his phone to check the time but gets distracted by the lock screen. It's a photo Aria took of them back in college. Ezra glances over and shakes his head.

"Rookie mistake number two," Ezra mumbles. "Never fall in love with a photographer. When they leave you're stuck with all of these constant reminders of the life you can never have again—the life you would do anything to get back."

Suddenly Ezra begins to wonder if this is how it's always going to be—if every lover will leave behind these memories—if by the end of his lifetime he will be plagued with reminders of those he has lost whenever someone mentions a movie they used to love.

"We leave behind so many parts of us in the people we've loved," Ezra continues, although he's practically forgotten that Dylan is sitting beside him. "Certain songs will always take you back to that one night when you promised each other forever... I'll always remember the night we fell in love."


	7. Chapter 7

_One Year Later (Chicago, IL)_

"Fucking wind..." Aria mumbles under her breath as she tries to light the cigarette trapped between her lips for the ninth time.

She turns her body and cups her free hand closer to her mouth as she tries sparking the lighter. Aria curses again as the heated metal burns her thumb, and she resists the urge to scream in frustration as she tries once more. Her body finally relaxes once she sees the cigarette catch, and she sighs in relief as the smoke fills her lungs. She turns back towards the river and rests her elbows on the fence, exhaling and watching as the smoke blows away violently over the water.

The publishing company she works for is about to close a huge deal, which means even more mindless paperwork than usual. It's by far the worst part about working as an Assistant Literary Agent. She rolls her eyes and laughs dryly under her breath—she's not even _the_ Literary Agent, let alone a fucking Editor. _If only you could see me now, Byron..._ She closes her eyes and takes another drag—

"When did you start smoking?"

Aria furrows her brow, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she catches the faint sound of a familiar voice over the wind. She turns around slowly and blinks a few times to make sure it's really him, then again, it was foolish of her to think she could avoid him forever. It was only a matter of time, she just hoped that it would've at least been a scheduled meeting—something that she could've seen coming, could've prepared for.

But that wasn't how this worked. With Ezra Fitz she never saw anything coming. That's what made him so dangerous—so irresistibly destructive.

He's standing about ten feet away, his hands stuffed in his front pockets and his eyes still locked on the lit cigarette. Aria inhales deeply before taking the cigarette from her lips, shrugging as she taps it gently with her forefinger.

"Only when I'm stressed," she answers dismissively.

Ezra nods and glances down at his feet, smirking at her vague response. After an awkward silence he picks his head up, still avoiding her eyes, before approaching her hesitantly. The wind picks up and a shy, yet amused smile slowly spreads across his face as he watches Aria struggle to tame her hair, which is currently flailing wildly now that her back is against the wind. It quickly becomes clear that her attempts are nothing but pitiful, and she lets out an annoyed sigh before placing the cigarette in her mouth so she can dig through her bag. She eventually pulls out a black beanie and roughly shoves it over her head, frowning when she hears Ezra attempt to stifle a laugh.

"What?" she asks defensively, fighting a smile.

He shakes his head before reaching for his inside coat pocket. Aria wipes a few remaining strands of hair from her face and tucks them beneath the beanie, watching as he pulls out a pack of light blue Spirits.

"Got a light?" Ezra asks through a charming smile.

Aria can't help but feel betrayed by the soft laugh that erupts from her throat as she nods. She coughs in a lame attempt to cover it up before she pulls the cigarette from her lips, extending the lit end towards him.

It _can't_ be this easy...she can't let him know it's this easy.

Ezra steps towards her slowly—carefully, almost as if he was afraid of her—and they both cup a hand around her lit cigarette as he puts his between his lips and leans down, pressing the end of it to hers. They welcome the warmth settling in their palms in contrast to the harsh wind and Ezra puffs quickly on the cigarette as it catches. It's all done so easily—so naturally...as if they've been doing this for years.

He doesn't step back. He stays, his body inches from hers. Aria swears she can feel the heat from his cigarette hitting her cheek. Not that she wants him to move, but something about this feels eerily familiar, and not in a way that makes her comfortable and safe—in the way that says you've been here before, you know what this is... _this will ruin you_. Aria feels her breath catch in her throat as she watches him take a long drag. She coughs lightly to clear her throat.

"When did you start smoking?" she echoes playfully, her eyes suddenly very interested in examining her own cigarette.

Ezra takes his between his fingers and exhales.

"Only when I'm stressed," he says, testing his boyish grin.

Aria glances up at him for a moment, a soft smile appearing on her lips, before turning her attention up at the sky. She's so fixed on the clouds she doesn't even notice when Ezra walks over to the river and leans his arms against the railing. He looks up as well—he's always wanted to see what she sees, to _know_ what she sees—before taking a look around, admiring the view of the city.

"You picked Chicago," he notes.

Aria's head quickly turns in the direction of his voice and she nods, looking out at the river. She goes to join him, leaning her forearms on the fence beside him.

"I've always dreamed of living here," she says before taking a drag.

He remembers hearing her talk about it once or twice when they were together, but he never knew that she'd consider moving here. Then again, maybe he'd been so focused on New York that he forgot to listen. There were a lot of things he'd missed back then—things that could've changed everything had he realized she wasn't happy sooner.

Ezra smiles softly. "It suits you."

She nods and exhales. "How's New York?"

"Good... It's good," Ezra says, turning around to lean his back against the fence. "Busy," he adds.

Aria laughs lightly.

Ezra raises his eyebrows. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just..." Aria lowers her eyes and slightly shakes her head. "You've never been good at small talk."

He smiles sadly. "Is that where we are now?"

Her expression falls slightly and she takes a long drag from her cigarette.

"No," she replies softly, unable to hide the sadness in her voice. "I guess not."

"Funny how one year can create more distance than five..." he begins.

"Ezra—" Aria pleads.

He raises his hands up mockingly in defense. "Just making an observation, that's all."

Aria flicks the ash from her cigarette and raises it to her lips. She sighs apologetically as she exhales.

"And what kind of other...observations have you made?" she asks reluctantly.

"You smoke now," he replies with a smirk.

"Amazing," Aria mutters dryly as she glances over at him.

Ezra flashes her another boyish smile, the lit cigarette trapped between his lips. He takes the cigarette from his mouth and exhales, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You seem happy now," he says, and Aria swears she catches the slightest look of disappointment on his face.

Her face softens and she gives him a small, sympathetic smile.

"I am...it's never perfect but, I'm happy," she assures him. "At least...I think this is what happy is supposed to feel like."

There's a long pause—a deafening silence, although that might just be the wind. Aria tilts her head slightly and a crease forms above her brow. Her smile falls as she watches Ezra breathe in a lungful of smoke.

"Are you happy, Ezra?" she asks quietly.

He hesitates before nodding slowly. "Yeah...I will be. Like you said—it's never perfect," he pauses. "I'm happy to see you," he adds carefully, flicking the ash from his cigarette.

She playfully rolls her eyes, unable to resist the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm happy to see you too, Ezra."

And she is, because regardless of how things ended she was telling the truth—she'd miss him more than he could ever know. Aria swallows nervously and there's a long pause as they both take a heavy drag.

"Did you get the whole book deal figured out?" she asks, smoke spilling from her lips.

"Just got out of the meeting," he says, then pauses to clear his throat. "I uh..." He takes a quick drag before continuing, "I had no idea you worked for them when they came to me—"

"I know," Aria says, cutting him off. "I know...it was a great offer anyway. You'd be an idiot to turn it down."

Ezra nods, but even if he hadn't scratched the back of his head she'd still be able to tell that he was hiding something. Aria raises her brow at him and Ezra quickly sighs in defeat at her silent question.

"Your boss wants me to stay in Chicago for a few days while they work out all the details," Ezra explains vaguely.

"What does that mean?" Aria pries.

"There are just some things I still need to work out with her—"

Aria laughs dryly and inhales a lungful of smoke. "They practically worship you down there for some reason, what more could you want?"

"I'm not thinking about not taking the deal," he responds quickly. "It's just paperwork stuff—you know, boring contracts..." he trails off.

Aria nods in understanding and chews lightly on her lower lip—she isn't sure if she's nervous or just looking for something to occupy herself with. There's another long pause as they both inhale deeply. Aria exhales shakily and turns her head to look at Ezra—his gaze overlooking the river.

"Are we good?" she asks bluntly, unable to keep the desperation in her voice hidden.

The question is so simple it almost makes Ezra want to laugh—are we _good?_ —but he resists, because he _wants_ to resist, and as much as he hates it he would give anything to be in her life again. And he knows she doesn't mean she wants to go back, and he doesn't necessarily want that either, but he's lived long enough to know that his life is significantly better with Aria somehow in it.

"Yeah..." he says slowly. "I understand—I think I'm beginning to understand."

She nods again softly, her smile grateful.

"I've missed you," Aria admits. "I'm sorry if you've missed me too."

"Yeah," Ezra laughs dryly, but there's something hopelessly genuine in his smile. "Haven't we all?"

She lets out a nervous, breathy laugh and clears her throat.

"Where are you staying?" she asks, changing the subject.

"To be determined," Ezra says, shrugging.

"Did you even bring anything with you to stay in the city? Are they at least paying for your hotel?"

He shakes his head. "Something about the last book being late."

Aria rolls her eyes. "They're just cheap, everyone is fucking late. You can stay with me," she offers suddenly, her eyes widening in shock by her own forwardness.

"Aria, I can't—" Ezra protests.

She doesn't think long enough to go through why it's a bad idea; she simply tosses her cigarette to the ground and crushes it beneath her shoe before grabbing Ezra's hand. The gesture is so impulsive—so distantly familiar—that after the initial shock passes he can't help but surrender.

"It's the least I can do," she insists, leading—dragging him away from the river. "It's only a little ways from here."

Ezra doesn't have time to object, not that he ever would. He drops his cigarette and stares down dumbly at his feet, watching them shuffle mindlessly along the sidewalk as she guides him. Even after all this time, he'd follow her straight to hell if she asked him to.

He finally tears his eyes from the ground when they're standing in front of Aria's apartment building. She unlocks the door and pulls him inside before shutting it behind them, and Ezra blinks rapidly, attempting to adjust to the pitch-black room they've just entered. Aria's phone is barely enough light for Ezra to see what the room looks like, and he barely gets a chance to even try before she begins pulling him again, and he inevitably follows.

Aria turns on the light—or lights—once they reach what he assumes must be her room. It takes him a moment to get used to them; there are light blue lights strung up over her bed (generously titled, could also be referred to as a glorified mat considering it doesn't have a frame), glow in the dark stars covering the ceiling, and a string of purple lights hung up on every wall. A blacklight lamp sits unplugged in the corner and a mini lava lamp beside her mattress.

"You never could be boring," Ezra mutters under his breath as he looks around.

"You don't like it?" Aria asks quietly, although it sounds more like a statement.

"No," Ezra says quickly, smiling. "No, it's perfect. Boring is...you know, boring. I would have been disappointed to see otherwise."

Aria laughs softly, unsure how to respond. At least his explanation is better than the reality that she still sees A slamming the lid of her coffin whenever she turns out the light. She looks around aimlessly for a second before remembering that Ezra doesn't have anything with him besides his workbag.

"I'll go get you some of Micah's clothes, he won't mind," Aria says.

Ezra can only assume that Micah is the other owner of this apartment, and she's out of the room before he can protest. He releases a deep breath and walks around. There's not much else in her room other than some posters, a small nightstand, a cheap plastic chair, and a desk that hasn't touched a piece of paper besides cash and rolling papers in months. Ezra recognizes most of the books in her nightstand; various Fitzgerald novels and one collection of short stories (he won't let himself be foolish enough to believe that she's kept the one he gave her all those years ago) _,_ collections of Virginia Wolfe's and Sylvia Plath's poetry, a handful of young adult guilty pleasures he's never heard of...

He nearly laughs when he sees _Ethereal by Ezra Fitz_ squeezed in between _The Bell Jar_ and fucking _Gone Girl._ At this point he can't tell if she enjoys fucking with him or if her subconscious just happens to be really good at it. He diverts his attention over to the desk, smirking at the grinder and unopened pack of Backwoods lying out. It doesn't take him long to realize that the top of the desk is littered with photos stuck beneath the glass surface. He feels his body relax as he looks at polaroid after polaroid of her smiling face. She truly does look happy...as happy as he's ever seen her.

The second Ezra pushes the Backwoods to the side he wishes he hadn't. Hidden underneath is a photo he recognizes, or at least remembers drunkenly begging Hardy to take at his wedding. They're both laughing—those goofy, intoxicated grins on their faces—and there's something so pure about it, so deceivingly innocent...

Aria's sitting in his lap, her hand lightly pushing against his chest as she leans forward. Her eyes meet the camera while his remain on her. Ezra can't help but feel sorry for the man in this photo—unable to draw himself away from her smile—so blinded by perspective. He can see everything much clearer now.

From this angle he understands that the joke has always been on him. The photographer is the audience— _and_ _they have always been laughing at you. In every photograph she is_ always _laughing at you_. And beneath the drunken joy, as she locks her eyes with the camera, there's an unmistakable hint of pity. As if they knew something he didn't. As if she knew she was going to leave.

"These should work," Aria says as she returns.

Ezra looks up, snapping himself out of his head, and raises his brow when she only hands him a pair of sweats.

"Sorry, Micah's room is a fucking mess. I couldn't find a clean shirt," she explains.

"It's fine," he insists. "Thanks," he adds, giving her an appreciative smile before going to change in the bathroom.

Aria wants to laugh at the modest (and pointless) gesture—God forbid they see each other _naked_ —but she knows that doesn't matter anymore. It didn't matter the second she left. She doesn't get to pretend like nothing's changed, not after everything she's done.

When Ezra returns, Aria is already sitting on her bed scrolling through her phone. The mattress is large enough to fit the both of them comfortably, but something about sharing a bed again feels…intimate. Still, there isn't anywhere else for him to go, so Ezra clears his throat before moving to settle down beside her.

And she can't explain why she hadn't thought to offer Ezra the couch, and she can't explain why she doesn't now, but whatever the reason he never thinks to question it. Maybe regardless of everything that's happened there is still no one who can make them feel safer; all she knows is that when Ezra teasingly asks her to "please, turn off _at least_ one light," she does—which is more than she's done in a long time.

**. . .**

"Want some company?"

Aria jumps slightly—the music playing from her phone drowned out any sound of the roof door opening—and drags her eyes away from the sky to see Micah standing a few feet away from her. She lowers the volume on her phone slightly and smiles when she sees him reach for the tightly rolled joint tucked behind his ear.

"How can I refuse?" Aria replies, nodding her head to the empty chair beside her.

"How long have you been up here?" he asks as he sits down.

She shrugs. "A few hours. I didn't feel like sleeping."

He nods and lights the end of the joint between his lips. He takes a few puffs before passing it to Aria.

"How was the concert?" she asks as she exhales.

He holds up a finger and directs his attention to his phone. After a moment he turns his screen towards her and shows her a photo from that night—the lighting tints everything a bluish-purple but she can clearly see Sasha dancing in the crowd, and some kind of holographic animal coming out from around the DJ table.

"Holy shit," Aria says, staring in disbelief at the lights.

Micah smirks. "Yeah it was crazy. Sasha and I just got back a few minutes ago," he says, then shrugs. "Still rolling, probably be up for a while."

"You're welcome to stay up here," Aria says, offering the joint back to him. "I won't be sleeping anytime soon."

He smirks and shakes his head. "Hit it again," he says, ignoring her outstretched hand and reaching over the side of his chair to grab his backpack. He unzips it, letting Aria see the jar and grinder inside.

"That's why I brought this up," he explains before putting the bag back and taking the joint from her fingers.

She laughs softly. "And that's why we love you. Did Sasha roll tonight, too?"

He nods and inhales deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before exhaling slowly.

"Yeah, she re-upped like an hour ago so she'll be awake for awhile, too. She'll make her way up here eventually."

Aria rolls her eyes when he starts forming perfect rings of smoke.

"Show off," she mumbles.

Micah grins and runs a finger through one of the floating rings.

"You're just bitter 'cause you can't do it," he says, taunting her.

Aria smiles and shrugs as she watches him again. "And you're still an asshole."

He laughs softly and hands her the joint, watching her curiously as she takes a hit.

"Ezra on your mind tonight?" he asks.

Aria tries not to laugh thinking about how he and Sasha will react to Ezra staying with them for a few days. She couldn't hide the stories of Ezra Fitz from her flat mates for long. She would never be sure of what, but _something_ had to have led her to them. Even after everything she'd been through, she trusted them—and she knew she _could_ trust them.

She still hasn't told them about A, not everything at least, but they don't seem to mind—something she's more than grateful for on the nights when they are stuck comforting a hysterical Aria after a particularly terrifying flashback. They've been there for some of the roughest nights...but they also know what she did—how she left. They know she can't afford to go back.

"No," she replies honestly. "Does that make me an asshole?"

Micah laughs. "Yeah, probably. But everyone's an asshole—sometimes we have to be, self-preservation and shit," he mumbles, the joint between his lips.

Aria smiles and reaches over to take the joint from his mouth.

"Rude," he snaps playfully, a puff of smoke escaping his lips.

"I came up here to forget about him," she explains, inhaling deeply. "I can pretend it's not real—at least for a night longer."

Micah lowers his brow in confusion and looks at her curiously.

"Pretend what's not real?" he asks.

Aria sighs. "He was just with me when I was dealing with some really dark shit," she explains before taking a hit. "And he helped me get through it, and I love him for that, but I—" she pauses to take another hit before passing it back.

"When I came here I was trying to escape the bad stuff, you know? And sometimes forgetting _him_ is the only way to completely forget...everything," she finishes, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Is that why you don't tell us much about your past? I mean, you've told us some things about Ezra but never..." Micah trails off, raising what's left of the joint to his lips.

Aria suddenly notices how dry her mouth is. She swallows and watches him toss the end of the joint on the ground and crush it beneath his shoe.

"Are you sure you want to go there? It's about to get deep," she warns lightly.

Micah scoffs. "Let's get fucking deep, Aria," he replies playfully.

She smirks and looks up at the stars, taking a deep, thoughtful breath. Eventually she shrugs, fighting not to roll her eyes.

"Clearly my past does not want to stay in the past," she mumbles dryly. "Might as well drag up this shit while we're at it."

"That's the spirit," Micah says with mock enthusiasm.

She lets out a heavy, tired breath. "Everybody has something…a past they never speak of out loud. It's like a secret tether—something shared only by those who saw it with their own eyes, those bound by the everlasting memories. What I'm trying to say is, we're bound—Ezra and I—we're forever connected through our pasts. But not all everlasting memories are good, and no matter how much I love him, he will always be my tether to hell... I just—I needed to forget. For one more night I needed to pretend," she explains distantly, echoing her words from before.

"Aria? Why just one more night?" he asks, his voice suddenly laced with concern.

She brushes him off with a wave of her hand. "Relax, I just invited my ex-soulmate to stay with us for a few days while he works out a book deal with my boss," she responds sardonically.

"Ezra Fitz is going to be staying with us?" Micah asks in disbelief.

Aria bites her lip. "He kind of already is… He's sleeping in my room right now."

"You offered your bed to the man you just referred to as your 'tether to hell'?"

Aria rolls her eyes. "I _have_ missed him. A lot. Besides, I guess it's good to get a reality check every once in a while. That's generally what I use art for. At least when you talk to someone else who experienced the same thing you can focus on the important things—that you survived—that although you're bound to hell, you aren't trapped there anymore."

"Still," he says, "seems like 'deny deny deny' would be the best approach. Lock that shit up and never look back."

She smiles and shakes her head lightly.

"I've tried forgetting entirely, eradicating it from every crevice of my mind and soul," she argues sadly. "See, some people think they can cut the past out completely; to ignore is to forget—to leave it behind. Makes sense, right?"

Micah entertains her with a nod and she laughs dryly, almost pitifully.

"Yeah, I thought so too..." Aria scoffs. "It's purgatory disguised as paradise—the Garden itself, where all fates are inescapable. One day the Devil will come. You won't know when or how but He will, and by the time you realize you've been tempted it will be too late. He will have found where you're most vulnerable and planted the eye of the storm. He will watch as his creation walks away—a time-bomb waiting to self-destruct. As hard as it was to forget, He will effortlessly make you remember."

"Jesus... Is that what happened to you?" he asks softly.

"I fell," she shrugs, "as all devils do."

He waits for her to explain. Aria lets out a tired sigh and licks her lips tentatively.

"I wanted to start over when I moved to Chicago," she begins. "I tried to become someone new. I tried to destroy my demons. I wanted to set my heart on fire, to feel the heat wrap around my bones as a new one rose from the ashes, free of stolen or missing pieces. And then the scent of burning flesh flooded the air—my lungs rotting as they filled with smoke until suddenly I was crumbling—falling—dissolving into thin air; and from the ashes the Devil rose, and Hell rose with him, and He laughed as the demons came crawling back...like old friends—returning home to the splintered cracks of a scorched heart."

"Well fuck..." he mumbles under his breath. "Sounds like a bad trip."

Aria smirks. "It was."

Micah laughs lightly then frowns. "Shit, I'm sorry. That must've been horrible."

She brushes it off with a shrug. "I've learned. There has to be something positive from this. There has to be a way for us to heal. Whatever happened then, whatever we went through, _we_ did it, you know? _We_ survived. No matter what happens in the future we will always share that memory—that life together. Sometimes you just have to look closer at the little things. Sometimes the little things are all we have."

"What exactly hap—"

The door to the roof bursts open, cutting Micah off. Aria lets out a secret sigh of relief. The last thing she needs is to go through a detailed account of everything that's happened to her. Not tonight. Tonight she gets to forget.

"You know there's some dude sleeping in your bed, Aria," Sasha yells as she makes her way over to where they're sitting.

"Ezra Fitz," Micah shouts back, beating Aria to it.

There's a smirk on his face as he says it and Aria rolls her eyes.

"Wait…like _the_ Ezra Fitz? _Your_ Ezra Fitz?" Sasha says incredulously as she reaches them.

"Yeah," Aria replies dryly.

"Well I almost jumped on top of him—thanks for the warning," Sasha mumbles through a clenched jaw as she sits in the chair across from them.

"Well what the hell would require you to jump on my bed in the first place?" Aria asks, struggling to contain a laugh.

"I was coming to wake you up and bother you, obviously," Sasha responds with a grin.

Aria shakes her head and sighs. "He's going to be staying with us for a few days until he sorts out his book deal," she explains. "So please, don't be weird about it."

"What?" Micah says in fake shock.

"We're _never_ weird," Sasha argues.

"Says the girl who almost body-slammed him tonight," Aria says, giving her the side-eye.

"Key word _almost,_ " Sasha replies, the grin still on her face. "Besides, it would've been an honest misunderstanding," she adds with a shrug.

Aria laughs for a moment before her face falls.

"Seriously, just don't try to make him uncomfortable," she begs. "I know you guys like to fuck around but please…this is weird enough as it is."

Sasha rolls her eyes. "Aria, it's going to be fine. You need to relax," she says, tossing the Backwoods she stole from Aria's desk onto Micah's lap. "And roll a fucking blunt."


	8. Chapter 8

Ezra wakes up the next morning to an otherwise empty bed. He laughs dryly at the pang of disappointment he feels. You'd think he'd be used to it by now. He rubs his eyes and frowns as he sits up, the blanket falling to his side. He slowly gets up, subconsciously holding his side where a large, jagged scar sits. He reaches into the pocket of his— _Micah's_ —sweats, and checks his phone. 8:36 am. His first meeting with his editor isn't until 10:30.

Ezra hears Aria's unmistakable laugh from the other room and, without thinking, follows it into what he now sees is a kitchen/living room. He sees Micah, taking an ungodly bite from some kind of sandwich, and a girl who's not Aria sitting on the couch watching some reality show on TV. Aria is pouring herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and she smiles brightly at Ezra when she turns around and sees him leaning against the hallway entrance.

"You're awake," she comments. "This is Micah, and my other flatmate, Sasha," she explains, nodding her head towards the couch.

Micah is the only one to tear his eyes from the television and look over at Ezra, immediately noticing his bare stomach. Ezra, suddenly conscious of the fact that he's not wearing a shirt, coughs nervously and looks helplessly at Aria.

"Fuck, Aria wasn't kidding about the scar. Thing's gnarly," Micah says, nudging Sasha before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Ezra laughs nervously and Aria rolls her eyes before glaring at Micah.

"Shut the fuck up," she warns. "Sorry," she adds, looking at Ezra with apologetic eyes.

"It's fine, reall—" Ezra starts, waving his hand dismissively.

"No fucking way," Sasha says in amazement, looking up from the TV. "Is that what you got from the whole book thing? Shit was fucked up, dude," Sasha mutters before leaning over to eat Micah's sandwich.

Ezra opens his mouth hesitantly but stops when Aria speaks.

"Sasha!" Aria gasps incredulously. "You two are the fucking worst," she adds.

"True though," Micah mumbles quickly, raising his brow before taking another bite.

Sasha giggles in response and Aria rolls her eyes dramatically.

"Unbelievable," Aria mutters under breath as she puts a lid on her coffee.

Aria walks over to Ezra, who is still standing awkwardly near the hallway fidgeting with his fingers, and puts a hand on his arm.

"I'm so sorry," Aria apologizes again, softly. She lightly squeezes his arm before placing her hand over her cup. "They _promised_ me they wouldn't be dicks," she adds loudly, looking in the direction of her flatmates.

"Sorry," they reply in unison, laughing lightly.

"Couldn't help myself," Sasha adds without taking her eyes from the TV.

Aria sighs and looks at Ezra with concern.

"Aria, it's fine," he assures her quietly. "I deserve it, anyway. Besides, the scar is _pretty_ fucking cool," he jokes lightly.

Aria smiles and punches his arm softly.

"Shit, I have to get to work. I'm so sorry for leaving you here," she says after checking her phone. "If you need anything—where to find clothes, food—ask the two shit heads on the couch. Or just call me."

Ezra furrows his brow for a moment then nods.

"Yeah, of course..." he says uneasily.

Aria looks at him apologetically then checks her phone once more.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," she says again.

Aria turns and walks over to her flatmates.

"Watch it!" Sasha says, waving her hand as Aria moves in front of the screen.

"Please, behave," she pleads sternly, reaching and grabbing what's left of the sandwich from Micah as he's about to take a bite.

"Come on," Micah whines, crossing his arms and slumping further into the couch.

Sasha and Ezra both laugh as Aria walks towards the door. She bites the sandwich, holding it in her mouth as she opens the door and leaves.

Ezra watches the door close before turning back towards Micah and Sasha. They're both staring at him and he looks around uncomfortably before settling his eyes back on them.

"So, wh—" Ezra attempts lamely.

"You were Aria's teacher, right?" Sasha asks bluntly.

"I, uh," Ezra stutters, speechless as he looks away and begins fiddling his thumbs.

"Jesus, Sasha," Micah sighs. "She asked us to behave."

"What? I'm not judging," she says defensively, laying back and resting her legs over Micah's lap. "I think it's hot," she adds, smirking.

Ezra clears his throat awkwardly.

"You're making the guy uncomfortable," Micah says, gesturing towards Ezra.

Sasha drops the smile from her face and sighs.

"I'm sorry," she says genuinely. "We're just Aria's friends, you know? I'm curious."

Ezra looks up and smiles softly at her before nodding.

"It's fine. Just caught me a little of guard, that's all."

Micah rolls his eyes. "She does that."

Sasha lightly kicks Micah's arm and he laughs.

"But seriously, a story like that? How can I _not_ be curious?" Sasha says.

Ezra laughs and walks towards the kitchen. "Fair enough, and you _are_ letting me stay at your place. What do you want to know?"

"How discreet were you two?" Micah mumbles out in monotone, his hand buried in the bag of chips previously on the table.

"She asked us to behave," Sasha says sarcastically, scrolling through her phone.

Micah mocks her in an incoherent mumble before raising a fistful of chips to his mouth. Ezra shakes his head and luckily finds the cabinet with mugs—or _a_ mug—on his first try. He pours himself a cup of coffee and sets it on the island as he sits on one of the raised stools.

"Not very," Ezra admits, raising the mug to his lips. "I mean, we never got caught—not when I was at Rosewood High, at least—...but we probably should have. Everyone there, even the principal, knew we had something after I left for Hollis College. When I got a job as a professor there were...unresolved issues with this colleague, a past...friend, who kind of tried to ruin our lives," he explains.

"Shit, was that the crazy chick who tried to threaten her into leaving you?" Sasha asks.

"Crazy ex-fiancé," Micah mumbles through a mouthful of chips.

"Jackie, that's the one," Ezra confirms, nodding his head. "Did Aria already tell you this?"

"Well, she told us about Jackie and all that blackmail shit. And about her dad trying to get your ass fired. And promoted. Wild shit," Sasha explains, sitting up and reaching for the chips. "Dude sounds like an asshole," she adds, digging her hand through the bag Micah just turned her way.

"Yeah, well, he got me to leave Hollis. Eventually I got offered another job at Rosewood High," Ezra says.

"You still had her in your class? And the _principal_ fucking knew?" Sasha says, looking at Ezra with a smirk on her face.

"Yeah... I mean, she broke up with me before I went back so technically there wasn't anything wrong with it. That's the only reason I took the job, I mean, part of the reason she broke up with me is because she knew they'd offered me one. She never forgave herself for Byron making me leave Hollis," he explains.

"Damn, so you got dumped, then had to stand in front of her every day in class and fucking _teach_..." Sasha says in disbelief before letting out a burst of laughter. "I'm sorry, that's gotta be some of the roughest shit I've ever heard."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Ezra says sarcastically, raising his eyebrows before taking a sip. "There was a brief moment after that when we were together while she was my student, but I had to leave Rosewood High after I got shot and that was that. May my teaching career forever rest in peace."

Ezra waves his mug in a mocking cheer before leading it to his mouth.

"Did it hurt?" Micah asks.

"Micah, he was fucking shot," Sasha replies.

Ezra laughs and sets his mug back down. "Uh, yeah. Not as much as I thought, honestly. I think the blood loss made me numb. And I saw Aria and suddenly... I don't know. I guess she just made me feel like everything was going to be okay. Even if what I was experiencing was my own death I felt...acceptance. If I was with her then it must've been right."

"You were fuckin' whipped, man," Sasha says before stuffing her mouth with chips and laying back down.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Ezra counters.

Sasha shrugs. "No," she clarifies. "It's adorable. No wonder she wants to keep you around."

Neither of them can see the soft smile that appears on Ezra's face.

"What's the deal with the whole book thing?" Sasha asks suddenly.

Ezra feels a lump in his throat forming and takes a long sip of coffee in an attempt to swallow it.

"Sorry," Sasha adds, semi-genuinely. "As her best friend it's my duty to assess all potential risks."

"Don't mind her, she likes to feel important," Micah says, causing Sasha to look up from her phone and glare at him.

"But actually," he adds, "I wanna know, too. That's the one thing she never really talked about."

"Don't be afraid to get _real_ into it," Sasha adds, then shrugs when Micah raises a brow at her. "You know, 'cause risks...and shit."

Ezra sighs. "Yeah, I get it... I just—I hate talking about it because I, well I hate thinking about how I made her feel about me—about us. It kills me to think about how much I hurt her, and how fucking stupid I was for not letting this goddamn book thing go..." Ezra pauses, releasing a deep breath.

"You don't have to—" Sasha begins.

"No," Ezra stops her. "You guys deserve to know this. I just...before I met her, I had this tacky dream of writing a brilliant, page-turning novel that would finally prove my family wrong. After I cut all my ties to them, leaving behind the inheritance and everything, I felt this weight of trying to show all of them that I could become someone, make something of myself, all without any connections to the _Fitzgerald_ name. I tried writing about them; I tried figuring out the mystery of my relationship with my brother, my parents, their marriage—if you could even call it that—on paper. I couldn't, and after my brief college encounter with her friend Alison, and then learning after graduation that she had supposedly mysteriously died...it was as if the perfect thriller had fallen right into my lap—a puzzle I could finally solve."

Ezra glances at them, his brow raised, as if he were asking if Aria had ever told them _that_ Ali story.

"Wait you knew Ali before you knew Aria?" Micah asks, finally tearing his eyes from the television to look over at Ezra. "She told us you knew her before you met, but she never..."

Ezra sighs shamefully. "Yeah... Ali was visiting her friend in college and told me they went to UPenn together. I was young and stupid, and I believed her. The second I found out I broke it off, and it was never more serious than a paper bag picnic in an empty theatre, but even after the short time I knew her, the way she acted, the way she spoke...she practically wrote a book herself. And she made sure she wrote her death just the same—the perfect amount of questions so you can't bring yourself to look away, and the perfect amount of lies to keep it relevant for eternity—to keep her hidden for eternity, or at least, until she wanted to be found. As it turns out, that mess was even more unsolvable, _and_ I managed to make it worse."

"So you met Aria trying to write a book about her recently deceased, bitch of a best friend Alison?" Sasha asks.

Ezra nods. "Knowing Ali's real age, I knew she had to have friends at Rosewood High and, knowing Ali, I figured her killer had to have been someone who knew her. So, I applied for a job there so I could stay in town and research for my book. I knew Ali's friends'—Aria's name, but since Ali had been friends with Cece, who really did go to UPenn, seeing Aria in that bar I just...I assumed Ali could've easily had friends at Hollis, too. And that doesn't change the fact that I still talked to her because of my research—although I truly believe that if I had gone into that bar without a story in mind I would've been drawn to her all the same—and I know how unforgivably wrong I was, and even though it doesn't make it any better, I stopped writing the book once I could admit to myself how serious my feelings for her were. I meant it when I told her that I had never lied about how I felt about her. She had me the moment we met, and even though it took me some time—longer than it should have—to realize that whatever I was doing wasn't worth losing what we had, I knew from the start that everything I felt for her was real, that the way I felt about her was going to change my life."

"So if this whole thing started and ended within months of knowing her, then how the fuck did that get you shot?" Micah questions, his head turned back towards the screen.

"I, uh..." Ezra begins, scratching the back of his head. "When she broke up with me before I started my second job at Rosewood High, I started writing the book again. Ali was discovered alive, and there was a whole new mystery waiting to be uncovered. I felt lost, and alone, and even though I had my teaching job back I felt like I was losing control of my life. So, like a coward, I retreated into the one thing that gave me any real purpose, before Aria came along anyway. That's probably the decision I'll regret the most. And the worst part is I tricked myself into believing that I was doing it _for_ her."

He pauses to take a sip of coffee.

"She was in danger," he continues vaguely, unsure of how much Aria had shared about her life, aside from him. "Someone wanted to hurt Ali, and I thought if I could figure out who it was then I could save Aria. Then, maybe we could be together again since the book would let me leave Rosewood High. I ended up making a huge mess of everything, and when Aria found out...there was a time I thought I would never see her again. Seeing her so hurt, so _betrayed_ , so terrified of...me, I felt disgusted that I had ever let it go that far—that I hadn't come clean about the whole thing sooner. I believed my intentions meant something—that doing something wrong for the right reasons would pay off. I used that excuse to justify my actions for too long."

Ezra shakes his head and clears his throat before he continues.

"I was following a lead connected to Alison when I found them in New York. Aria had told me she never wanted to hear from or see me again, but I wanted to do _something_ to actually help them, especially after all the harm I'd done. I thought maybe...I don't know what I was thinking. She was my whole life, at the time, and I just—I _needed_ to do this for her. That's how I ended up on the roof. And of course, I always knew I would die for her...and I think she always knew that, too."

"Shit, dude," Sasha says, looking up from her phone, propping herself on her elbows to look at him.

"Love is crazy," Micah mumbles softly, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Ezra replies with a scoff. "Tell me about it."

"You know there's a chair over here," Sasha says, raising an eyebrow.

Ezra clears his throat nervously and picks up his mug, nodding lightly.

"Right," he replies, getting up and moving to the chair beside them.

"We never said you could sit in it," Sasha adds, smirking.

"Uh," Ezra stumbles awkwardly, starting to stand.

"Jesus," Sasha says, laughing. "I'm messing with you."

"Oh," Ezra says, starting to laugh lightly. "Right."

"Sorry," she adds.

"No," Ezra says, waving his free hand. "Fair enough."

"Stop being a bitch," Micah says, laughing.

"Shut up—"

"So, uh, what are we watching?" Ezra cuts in.

"Kardashians," Sasha replies, settling back down.

"Shit's dramatic as hell," Micah adds.

" _And_ entertaining as hell," Sasha reminds him.

Ezra laughs and nods. "I can do drama."

"Yeah, we know," Micah quips.

"Okay, I set that one up," Ezra admits, smiling and taking a sip of coffee.

He settles back comfortably into his chair, and as he watches some Kardashian toss another Kardashian's phone from the railing of the second story, he can't help but wonder how exactly it is that he got here. He _knows_ why, but _here_ , in Aria's apartment, with her _flatmates,_ it all feels like a dream. And not a bad one, although he can't explain it, he can't say there's anywhere else he'd rather be right now.

Maybe this really was it. Maybe his life was finally looking up for a change.

**. . .**

"Aria?"

Aria looks up from the printer to see her boss, Melissa, standing behind her impatiently.

"Do you need something?" Aria asks.

"I've been calling your desk," Melissa says sternly, her brow raised.

"Sorry, I just got back from lunch, and I was just printing out the new Fitz contract—" Aria begins.

"Fine, I'll get the rest of this," Melissa says, waving her hand dismissively. "Speaking of Fitz, the new editor, Rachel—she wants to see you."

"His editor? Now?"

"Yes, _now_ ," Melissa says, nodding her head back towards the door. "Do you know how to get there?"

Aria nods before rushing past her without another word. She worries the rings on her fingers as she walks nervously to Rachel's office. She sees Ezra walking swiftly away from Rachel's door, his head down and a worried expression on his face. He looks up briefly, attempting to smile at her before exiting towards the stairs.

Aria can barely make out a soft, "hi," before the door shuts. She bites her lip and turns to make her way towards Rachel's office. She lets out a deep breath before opening the door.

"Aria...Montgomery, yes?" Rachel says, motioning her hand towards the chairs in front of her desk.

Aria sits down and smiles graciously.

"Yes, I'm an Assistant Literary—"

"Yes I know who you are," Rachel says, looking up from the papers on her desk.

"So...?" Aria asks cautiously.

"I'm aware that you have a...personal relationship with Ezra Fitz, our new potential client, correct?"

"Potential?"

"Yes, well, that's where you come in," Rachel replies.

Aria furrows her brow. "I'm sorry, I don't understand..."

"Ezra Fitz is saying that he'll only agree to sign with us is if _you_ are his editor. As you can probably imagine, this has created some...issues with his contract moving forward. And as I'm sure you know, Ezra Fitz is also a very.. _desirable_ client, considering his last book was a best-seller and he's now on track to write a second—Anyway, we thought we'd at least get your take on it, seeing as though you are an...assistant here," Rachel explains.

Aria blinks slowly as she processes everything. Ezra wants _her_ to edit his book? Why? As Rachel made perfectly clear, she was only an _assistant._ Why would he possibly want her to do this? Had this been the plan all along?

"I, um," Aria stutters. "Why?" she manages to get out.

Rachel shrugs and laughs dryly. "Beats me. He says he wants someone close—someone who not only knows his writing, but knows _him_ —to make this book everything it needs to be."

"Look, I'm flattered, but—"

"Look, Aria, our bosses love this guy. And to be honest, I think Ezra's a talented man, I really do, and I'd love to be able to work with him again, but I have a lot of clients I'm dealing with right now and if you can do this and get us that best-selling book, you could be looking at one hell of a promotion. We don't have a lot of time before we need to know if he's signing or not. You have to tell me by the end of the day if you're in," Rachel says.

"I—" Aria begins. "I'll let you know."

Rachel nods and Aria smiles as she gets up.

"Your friend drives a hard bargain, Aria," Rachel adds, smirking as Aria opens the door of her office.

Aria sighs softly. "Yeah, I know," she says before she leaves.


	9. Chapter 9

Aria flees from the publishing building as fast as she can—at least, without making a fool of herself. She fumbles with her phone for a moment before she can steady her fingers to pull up Hanna's contact. She hasn't spoken to her old friend in nearly a year—since she was back in Rosewood...planning a future with Dylan. The other girls met up another time in Rosewood after that, but Aria had lied and said she was busy with work, as if her assistant position was demanding _._

Aria shakes her head to clear her thoughts and raises the phone to her ear.

"Aria?" Hanna answers.

"Hanna, hey I know it's been forever—"

"Yeah, especially since you bailed on us last time," Hanna jokes lightly, although it makes Aria squirm. "Speaking of, how's work?"

"That's actually what I'm calling about..." Aria begins hesitantly.

"What's wrong?" Hanna asks worriedly.

"My publishing company is offering Ezra a book deal—"

"Ezra's there? In Chicago?" Hanna interrupts.

Aria sighs. "It gets worse. He says he's only gonna sign if _I_ edit his next book," she explains.

"Holy shit," Hanna responds. "Did he _know_ you were working there? Is that why he was talking to them?"

"No," Aria replies quickly. "No, his old editor, Rachel, moved to a publishing company in Chicago to be closer to family. He followed her, he had no idea I was working there until after he started negotiating the deal."

"Still," Hanna says cautiously. "You should be careful."

"So you think I should do it?" Aria asks.

"Well, are they going to finally give you the editing job you deserve?"

Aria scoffs. "Yeah maybe, if I don't fuck it up."

"Aria, you're amazing," Hanna assures her. "But you should probably talk to Ezra, find out why," she suggests.

"I know," Aria says, releasing a deep breath. "Rachel said he wanted someone who knew him, someone who could help him make this book everything he wants it to be."

"Really," Hanna says, unconvinced. "That's the _only_ reason he wants _you_ working with him...?"

"Shut up," Aria says. "Not helping."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Hanna says. "But you do need to talk to him. Besides, you two are still friends, right?"

"I guess," Aria answers.

"Well then," Hanna continues. "Working together wouldn't be _that_ bad, right? If it means getting that promotion..."

"Yeah..." Aria says as she approaches her apartment building. "I really appreciate...everything, Han. I gotta go, but I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," Hanna says. "Promise?"

Aria laughs lightly. "Yes, promise. Love you," she says before hanging up.

Ezra is sitting on the couch, drinking a beer, when Aria walks through the door.

"How was work?" Ezra starts.

"Why did you tell Rachel you wanted _me_ to edit your book?" Aria asks, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Okay..." Ezra replies uneasily, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "I guess I just thought you'd be really good at it," he offers, shrugging.

Aria sighs, dropping her arms. "Ezra, this is a big deal."

He leans back and rolls his eyes. "Aria, I asked for you to be my editor, not kill someone."

"Is this why you came to Chicago?" Aria scoffs and asks in disbelief.

"No," Ezra says quickly. "I told you, I didn't know you were working there I just—" he pauses to take a deep breath. "Look, when I found out it was _your_ company I—I was just...I _know_ how brilliant you are, Aria. And I _need_ you to help me write this book."

"Why me?" Aria asks softly.

"Aria—" Ezra begins, laughing dryly. "This book...I want this book to be perfect. And you're the only person I know who can get it there. Please."

"What, you didn't want your last book to be perfect?" she mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes.

"Aria, look at me," he pleads, and she meets his eyes. "This is different, okay? The book...it's about you—indirectly, but it's about everything, about love. Not necessarily _ours_ —that's not why I'm asking you to do this—but I need to keep it honest. I need you to keep me honest, Aria."

Aria looks away from him and bites her lip. "Ezra..." she says softly.

"Please," he begs her again. "I can't do this without you."

Aria sighs and walks over to sit next to him. She grabs the beer from the table and takes a large sip before handing it back to him.

"Okay," she agrees quietly.

"Really?" Ezra says, his eyes lighting up.

"I'll help you," she confirms, nodding her head.

"Thank you, Aria," he says, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"You deserve this book, Ezra," Aria replies, a gentle smile on her lips. "You deserve to have everything you want in life."

Ezra smiles to himself as she leans her head on his shoulder. She yawns and smacks her lips, scrunching her nose slightly as she finds a comfortable spot to rest her head. She closes her eyes and lets the sound of the television lull her to sleep.

**. . .**

Aria wakes to the sound of a slamming door. Somehow her head dropped from Ezra's shoulder to his lap in the time she was asleep. She sits up to see Micah carrying two plastic bags into the kitchen, and Sasha walking towards the couch.

"We went out for dinner, brought back some leftovers," Micah says as he sets the bags down on the island.

"Sorry, did we wake you?" Sasha asks as a semi-apology.

"'s fine," Aria mumbles sleepily, waving her hand dismissively.

Sasha squeezes herself onto the couch, and Aria shifts slightly to give her more room.

"Bring over those leftovers," Aria says, to no one in particular. "And a spoon," she adds.

"Yes, ma'am," Micah replies, carrying over two containers and several forks and spoons.

He sets them on the coffee table and Aria thanks him before reaching to open the carton of fried rice. Ezra goes for the leftover noodles.

"How was work?" Sasha asks.

Aria shrugs before stuffing a spoonful of rice into her mouth.

"Aria's agreed to be the editor for my new book," Ezra says, and Aria glares at him. "What?" he adds. "Was it a secret?"

Aria shakes her head and rolls her eyes playfully.

"Damn, congrats Aria," Micah says as he sits in the chair beside them.

"You're like, a real editor now," Sasha adds, nudging Aria's ribs gently.

"Wow, thanks," Aria replies dryly.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Sasha says in a rushed voice. "Just...you know, it's awesome."

"Yeah well, at least I know if I can't get a job because of my talent, I can always get one because of connections," Aria mumbles through a mouthful of rice.

Ezra sets the container of noodles on the coffee table as Sasha smirks and scoffs.

"Aria? You know that's not true, right?" Ezra asks, his brow furrowed.

Aria shakes her head and attempts to laugh.

"Never mind, it was just a joke," Aria says as she leans forward to set the half empty container on the table.

"Well," Micah cuts in, slapping his knees. "I think we should celebrate."

Ezra furrows his brow as Micah reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bag of white powder.

"No way," Sasha says. "You fuckin' liar, you said you ran out!"

Micah smirks. "I might have been saving some for a...Special _K_ inda evening," he explains.

Aria rolls her eyes and looks at Ezra, clearly confused.

"Ketamine," Aria explains. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, uh," Ezra pauses to clear his throat. "We _are_ celebrating."

"That's the fuckin' spirit!" Sasha says with a light laugh.

Micah leans forward and dumps the contents of the bag onto the table. He pulls a card from his wallet to divide the powder into three even lines, and a fourth slightly smaller one. Ezra watches curiously as Micah rolls up a $20 and bends his head down. He clears the line with one swift motion, sniffling a few times as he brings his head up.

"Who's next?" Micah asks, grinning.

Aria laughs and bites her lip before standing and kneeling beside Micah. She takes the bill from Micah and cleans another line from the table, then she beckons Ezra. He doesn't remember telling his body to move but suddenly he's kneeling beside her, taking the rolled bill from her hand. Then, as if this wasn't the first time he'd been snorting ketamine in his ex's apartment, he clears the line, wincing as the powder burns through his nasal cavity.

Ezra feels it kick in within seconds after he watches the last line disappear from the tabletop. He feels his mind settle into a state of complete bliss as he leans his back against the couch—he doesn't even care about the bitter aftertaste dripping into the back of his throat. He sees Aria giving him a dazed smile and does his best to return it.

"How do you feel?" Aria asks.

"Amazing," Ezra replies, still smiling.

"Shit, man," Sasha breathes out, laughing as she leans her head back onto the couch. "Me too," she agrees hazily.

"Micah, where's the music?" Aria whines.

"On it," he replies, scrolling through his phone.

Aria's face lights up as a house beat begins playing from the speaker on the table. She laughs and turns to look at Sasha, who is still staring at the ceiling in her own world.

Aria stands and extends her hand to Sasha, who reluctantly grabs hold as Aria pulls her to her feet. Their hands are still interlocked as they begin to dance. Micah leans back in his chair, bobbing his head along to the music, and Ezra laughs as he watches the two girls before him.

They're giggling uncontrollably when they both collapse onto the couch, their fingers still intertwined, Sasha practically sitting in Aria's lap. Sasha glances over at Ezra and furrows her brow.

"You're a lot cooler than Aria made you sound, Ezra," Sasha comments.

"Uh," Ezra stammers, laughing nervously. "Thank you...?"

Aria lightly hits Sasha's shoulder and laughs. "Be nice," she warns, still giggling.

"That _was_ nice," Sasha argues before sticking out her tongue.

Aria sticks out her own in response before leaning her head on Sasha's shoulder.

"To be fair," Micah cuts in. "She did kinda give us the asshole side of the story. So, you know, were glad you're not a total asshole."

"You just don't know him well enough," Aria teases before Ezra can respond.

"Damn," Ezra says, feigning hurt as he shakes his head.

"And you want _us_ to behave," Sasha mumbles softly, raising her brow.

"Can one of you just please roll a blunt?" Aria asks, changing the subject.

"Thought you'd never ask," Micah replies with a smirk before standing to get his bag.

"Have you met her?" Sasha quips as Micah leaves the room.

Aria nudges Sasha and lets out a heavy sigh as she sinks her head back into the couch. Micah returns shortly, and tosses the blunt wraps on the table before removing a jar and grinder from his bag.

"Oh my God," Aria says in relief. "You're an angel."

"I do what I can to give back," Micah replies, shrugging.

Sasha scoffs as Ezra and Aria laugh.

"You're an idiot," Sasha mutters under her breath.

"Hey," Micah says. "I'm the idiot who's rolling you a blunt, so watch it."

Aria laughs again and glances at Ezra before disconnecting her hand from Sasha's and stretching her arm towards Ezra. He settles his palm on hers hesitantly, unsure of what exactly she wants. That seems to be enough, because she immediately tightens her grip around his hand, mindlessly playing with his fingers as she watches Micah roll.

Aria finally releases his hand minutes later when Micah passes her the blunt. She inhales deeply, holding the smoke in her lungs for a moment before releasing her breath. Aria offers the blunt to Sasha and she leans forward, placing it between her lips and inhaling deeply. Sasha tilts her head back as she exhales before handing the blunt to Ezra.

As they smoke Sasha and Micah continue prying at Ezra. They avoid talking about the book in Aria's presence, but everything else is fair game. They ask him about his family, his life before Aria—she was right, for some reason...he feels like he can talk to them, like they won't judge him for all the terrible things he's done, of which there are many.

And they do their fair share of teasing Aria, as well. They ask about their relationship in high school, and Ezra nearly chokes on a lungful of smoke when Sasha asks him how the classroom sex was, but he knows it's harmless. Besides, it feels...good, to be able to talk about his relationship with Aria so openly. The only person in his life who had even known about her was Hardy, and talking about Aria with him never did Ezra any favors.

"I think it's pretty much out," Sasha says before taking one last drag.

Ezra looks up and watches Sasha toss the remainder of the blunt into the gold ashtray on the table. Sasha turns her head towards Aria, and she smiles wickedly before breathing out a cloud of white smoke in her best friend's face. Aria bites her lip in an attempt to suppress a giggle, and smiles playfully as she frees her bottom lip. Aria's eyes glance down at Sasha's parted mouth and she holds her breath, and Sasha glances down at Aria's, too. Before Ezra can finish blinking, Aria is pressing her lips to Sasha's.

"Every time..." Micah mumbles. "You get used to it," he adds, shrugging and meeting Ezra's eyes.

"Clearly," Ezra replies dryly.

They giggle as their lips part, or at least Ezra assumes they have. He jumps slightly when he feels a hand come in contact with his shoulder. He looks up to see Sasha smiling at him, a dazed look in her eyes.

"Wait, have you seen Aria's photography yet?" she asks brightly.

"Uh, no..." Ezra replies, glancing at Aria and raising his brow.

Aria nudges Sasha with her elbow. "It's nothing," she says dismissively.

Sasha rolls her eyes. " _No,_ " Sasha says. "They're _really_ good. Like amazing."

"Can I see them?" Ezra asks.

Aria sighs and pushes Sasha off to the side of her as she gets up.

"Come on," she says, extending a hand to Ezra.

He takes her hand and Aria has to use both of hers to help him up. She begins walking towards the hallway, stopping to extend her hand in Ezra's direction. He takes it again, cautiously, and she leads him back to her room. She drops his hand when she reaches her desk to open one of the side drawers, which is scattered with developed and undeveloped film. Aria picks up a stack held together with a rubber band, sliding the band off before sheepishly holding the photos out for Ezra.

He takes them carefully in his hand, stifling the gasp that threatens to escape his lips when he looks down at the first photo. It's disturbing, to say the least—in a good way, as good a way disturbing can be. The photo is of a decaying dollhouse on top of a metal bed frame; a single doll in all black, eyes scratched out, sits in the second story—trapped; forgotten as the walls collapse around it.

Ezra begins shuffling through the photos, each one as haunting and terrifying as the last—shadows in the windows of disintegrating buildings; metal operation tables in abandoned hospitals; disfigured dolls. He almost asks if she's continuing her doll series from years ago, but the last thing he wants is to remind her of everything that happened at the gallery, and that time of their lives in general.

"These are...breathtaking," Ezra says softly, gazing in awe at each photograph he turns to. "Where did you take these?"

Aria shrugs. "Various abandoned buildings and hospitals around Chicago. Mostly mental asylums... They don't creep you out?" she asks softly.

"I mean, they do," Ezra replies honestly, smirking. "But that doesn't mean they aren't beautiful."

Aria scoffs lightly.

"I mean it," Ezra continues. "You were always good at that—creating beauty from misery."

Aria glances up and meets his eyes, gazing into them curiously before glancing away.

"Come on," Aria says, grabbing his arm lightly. "Before they smoke another blunt without us."

She pulls him towards the door and out of her room, leading him back to the living room. Micah is now sitting with Sasha on the couch, finishing up the blunt he's been rolling.

"Just in time," Sasha says, holding her arms out towards Aria.

Aria laughs and collapses on top of Sasha, spreading her legs out over Micah's lap. He carefully maneuvers his hands out of the way so she doesn't kick the blunt.

"Watch it," Micah says.

Aria simply laughs in response. She turns to look at Ezra, who is still standing awkwardly beside the television. She pats the open spot next to her and Sasha on the couch.

"Sit with us," Aria says with soft eyes and a gentle smile.

Micah lights the blunt between his lips as Ezra moves to join them. He passes it to Sasha, who begs Aria to play music before taking a long hit. Sasha taps Aria's shoulder to pry her attention away from her phone, and Aria looks up, noticing the blunt in Sasha's hand. Aria reaches for it gratefully before turning to her phone again, filling the room with some kind of 80's style pop song.

And Ezra watches Sasha's gaze follow the blunt to Aria's lips, and it stays there for a moment before straying to her eyes. Ezra recognizes that look—he's seen it many times before, and not just from his own experience—the look of being unmistakably in love with Aria Montgomery. Of course, he realizes he's projecting his own feelings for her onto Sasha— _God_ , what he would give for whatever she has with her. Maybe then he could pretend; give himself the illusion of everything he's dreamed of.


End file.
